


The Emasculation of Edward Cullen

by Forever_Liz



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-11
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:35:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forever_Liz/pseuds/Forever_Liz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edward Cullen is a college freshmen. Forks High's Golden Boy now finds he's a little fish in a big pond & fodder for frat boy pranks. Embarrassing situations threaten to destroy his confidence until he meets an imperfect girl who shows him his true value.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**A/N: This fic is rated M for strong, offensive language and future lemons. If you aren't old enough to buy a lottery ticket or sign your own permission slips for field trips then you should not be reading this. Now, scoot!**

**DISCLAIMER: SMEYER owns all things Twilight.**

**I own 2 cats, and a fish. Why do I feel like I got a crappy deal?**

_**PROLOGUE** _

**8=D**

"Oh, Edward! Oh, my Go—I'm gonna... I'm gonna... EDWARRRRRRRRRRD!"

I was pounding that like there was no tomorrow. Jessica Stanley may not have been able to remember her  _own_  name at the moment, but the bitch sure as fuck would never forget mine! I was pretty sure we had acquired an audience outside Mike's parents' bedroom door. That was par for the course, though. I was accustomed to walking out of a room after a good, hard fuck to a round of applause and envious glares. What did it matter to me? We were all drunk off our asses anyway. Few, if any of us, would be able to conjure up fuzzy images from tonight's post-graduation bash. That and the fact that I owned this shittastic school lock, cock—or is it stock? Does it fucking matter?—and barrel only fed my shameless attention-whoring ways. I may or may not have even bowed as I stepped through the doorway, buttoning up my fly as another cup of "hunch punch" was shoved into my hand. The stuff tasted like piss, but I wasn't about to 'fess up that I had a bottle of Goose stashed under the seat of my shiny new Dodge Viper. That was for later, after I'd pried myself away from these cock-gobbling losers. All I could think was,  _"Thank God I was done with this hick town and heading to UF in a month!"_  The Viper was a graduation-slash-congratulations gift from Daddy Dearest for my actually graduating without an arrest record and a 3.8 GPA, as well as a full football scholarship to the Football Mecca that is the University of Florida. The Grey Goose was a gift from Dad, too. He just didn't know it yet.

The Golden Boy, Cullen. That's what they called me. Hell, it was proudly etched in the sign that marked the entrance to Forks High: "Welcome to Forks High. Home of the Spartans' Golden Boy Cullen." Ever wondered what a free pass looked like? Well, just turn to page 213 in the yearbook and look up "Edward Cullen." It's there, in black and white, just under my picture—"Golden Boy." There really is such a thing as too much fucking power. I just hoped like hell that I hadn't peaked in high school.

Football was its own religion here in the Pacific Northwest and I was a god, a football god, but a god nonetheless. Pair that with my disgusting hotness and near-genius I.Q. and there wasn't anything I couldn't get or get out of. That little piece of self-knowledge was almost my undoing. If it weren't for my saint of a mother praying for my immortal soul 24/7 and my pansy-ass need to please her then I'd have been dead in a ditch somewhere, impregnated two-thirds of the female population of Forks High, or flunked out long ago.

I couldn't help it that the powers that be deemed me worthy of all the good fortune I'd benefited from. I don't know; maybe they figured that someone as painfully good looking as I was who had my talent needed all those brains to keep me out of fucking trouble. I could only imagine the shit I could have gotten into if it weren't for all the gray matter shoved up into my cranium. It was fast thinking and even faster talking that kept my friends and me out of jail on more than one occasion. That small town police chief, Chuck Swan, could suck my balls. He was just a glorified Barney Fife. Stupid hick town cop. He was the bane of my teenage existence. I wondered for the umpteenth time who had died and made it his job to fuck with me every opportunity he got. The guy had real issues. But that was water under the bridge, because as far as I was concerned, I was blowing this shit hole and never looking back. This fish was moving to a bigger, better pond.

Don't get me wrong. I'd thoroughly enjoyed that chapter of my life, and probably more than I should have. Definitely more than I should have, legally speaking. Between the underage drinking, the smoking of the occasional joint and copious amounts of sex between minors—regardless if it was consensual and they were the ones getting off on  _me_ —I had done more than my fair share of shit to atone for. That "get out of shit free" card was priceless. Who wouldn't love four years of having their every need catered to?  _Horny, Edward? Let's just slip in the back seat of my dad's Toyota and I'll suck you off. Need an extension on your homework, Edward? Done. How's an extra week sound? Hungry, Edward? Order whatever you want on the menu; it's on the house! Some dumb fucker messing with you, buddy? Tell us who he is and he's a dead fucker! Can't risk you hurting those Golden hands of yours over some prick who can't keep his mouth shut._  I was ready to leave it all behind, though. I had bigger fish to fry. Onward and upward. The world was my oyster, and I was ready to shuck 'em, suck 'em and eat 'em raw!

How was it then that I came to find myself duct taped naked to the flagpole in the center of campus early one morning, my Calvin's flying high overhead, and just my Golden Boy hands clamped protectively over my junk?

**8=D**

**A/N: So, what do you think of Dickward? I have so many awkward, embarrassing moments planned for him on his journey. Want more? Let me know. Don't leave Golden Boy in a bind. Haha!**


	2. The Bigger They Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. The response to the prologue blew me away, and you are all coldhearted Golden Boy haters! Don't get your panties in a wad, GB will get his...
> 
> This fic is rated M for strong language, under aged illegal activities, and lemons. Mmmmmmm, lemons...
> 
> In the spirit of full disclosure, to my knowledge, there isn't a flag pole on the lawn in front of the Student Union at UF, also known as the "Green Banana" but let's just pretend that there is for right now. This is fiction after all.
> 
> Special thanks to TwilightMundi, my beta and wind beneath my wings. I love you long time.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: SMEYER owns all recognizable characters, except for William Shatner. He's solely responsible for his hot mess.
> 
> Liz owns a search history that she hopes her mother never sees. Enjoy!

As if it wasn't fucking bad enough that I was adhered to a pole like a pig on a spit, but I was realizing a horrifying fact: the UF campus was coming to life as the sun rose higher in the sky. At first there were just a few students moving through the open space of Reitz Union; a few of them didn't even notice me trapped there. I almost convinced myself that it was all a really fucked up dream. Then my ass would fall asleep or the silver tape would tug on my leg hair reminding me that this was my reality. No, not my reality, but Eddiekins' reality. My reality was that of The Golden Boy Cullen, but that guy had apparently stayed behind in Forks, Washington, while this other pussy, "Eddiekins," had moved to the swamps of Florida.

Somehow, my perfect, plushy life had evaporated, adding to the thick humidity that hung in the air. The life I now claimed was a mere shell of the old and with the new one came a new name—Eddiekins. I hated that fucking name. Cullen, Edward, or Golden Boy were the only accepted monikers, with the occasional "son" or "Number 22," the last being my jersey number all four years I was on the varsity team. All other attempts at nicknames were met with the death stare, and if the offense was serious enough, an ass whipping. But it would seem the death stare was back in Forks with my old life. And my fucking pride.

It was inevitable that more eyes would fall on my bare ass as the "Green Banana" filled with more students. The catcalls started as did the snickers which were accompanied by pointing and clicks of camera phones.

"What do we have here? Could this be THE Golden Boy, Eddiekins Cullen? Whattcha doin' flappin' in the wind, pretty boy?" Nice. I'd wondered when the fuckers were gonna show up. I figured it was only a matter of time before they did. No way in hell they'd miss the opportunity to gloat and humiliate me. So much for team spirit and camaraderie and shit. The big-ass knob gobblers who woke me from a dead sleep, dragged me down here and stripped me naked were my own teammates and future frat brothers. Knowing the asstards would show and their actually showing were two different things. I wasn't sure which was worse—the anticipation of the humiliation or the actual humiliation itself. A rather large crowd was gathering round us, and I was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic.

Stop your whining, pussy! If we're surrounded by people then there's at least some semblance of privacy, right? Our ass isn't out in the open anymore.

Kinda. But that's a messed up way of looking at this shit, dude, I answered the voice that had taken up residency in my head.

It's a fucking hot ass, though, if I do say so myself.

Why, thank you, self.

I was so screwed up that I was talking to myself and answering back. If I kept this up, I was gonna need to name the fucker.

"Wow, you a little cold there, Eddiekins?" Ben, the short fucker with a tiny pecker, had the nerve to ask me as he crouched down to get a better view of my exposed plumbing. I was more than a little creeped out that he took such an interest in my package. I shuffled away from him as best as I could, cupping myself a bit tighter. The tape pulled at the hair on my arms and legs.

This shit is gonna hurt like a motherfucker when they finally cut me loose. I'm gonna have bald spots in weird-ass places. I hope like hell it grows back.

This time last year I was king of the hill, now I wasn't king of a pile of shit. In an attempt to block out the fuckton of humiliation, I went all Wayne and Garth wavy flashback to my happy place.

FML, the less fucked up of the two voices said. When did Forks High become my fucking happy place? End it all, NOW!

Instead, I was transported back to halls of FHS, and the glory I'd left there...

I walked down the wide hallways, crammed with students rummaging through their lockers and rushing to get to their next class. Even the late ones paused to nod, wave or call out to me as I passed by. No one missed the chance to be noticed by Edward Cullen.

"Awesome win, Cullen!"

"You guys rocked the field yesterday, man," a random voice called from the crowd.

"Hey, Edward, how about I take you into the janitor's closet and properly congratulate you?"

"Uh, no thanks, Mike. I fuck the chicks, remember?" His face fell as I received fist bumps and claps on the back from the general population surrounding me.

As I turned away from his disappointed gaze, I ran right into a soft body and reached out to steady whoever it was that was standing too close. Lauren Mallory.

"True, 22. So, want me to step in there with ya? I can give you a satisfactory 'atta boy' in half as many minutes as your jersey number." While the promise of a little head was tempting, I had class to get to. One didn't get to be Salutatorian by showing up late for class 'cause they were blowing their load down some chick's throat.

"Maybe later, Lauren. But thanks for the offer. Whatcha doing the first eleven minutes of lunch?"

"You, apparently."

"It's a date."

 

8=D

 

I was jerked back to reality by my balls when suddenly I felt something wet explode against my bare chest.

Great. It wasn't enough that I was naked if front of the entire student body of UF, now I was getting pelted with water balloons, too.

Those aren't balloons, Sandra Dee. They're condoms filled with water and shaving cream. Ever seen a prophylactic before? I really didn't like this inner voice. He sounded eerily like William Shatner.

Shut the fuck up, prick! You know damn well I have! More times than I can count! But if I never see another one after this it will be too soon! I snapped at Captain Kirk's voice.

The sting from a second and third condom bomb slammed into me, knocking the wind and the internal dialogue right out of me.

"What the hell are you dumb shits up to now?" A female voice broke through the crowd just as a stunning mass of blond hair parted the masses. "What the fuck? Emmett McCarty! What the hell have you done to that poor kid now?"

Enter Rosalie Hale. Blond, blue-eyed, beautiful bombshell to the rescue. All eyes mercifully left my pathetic form to ogle hers. She was a vision in tiny denim shorts and a pink UF tank top. There was glitter or some shit on it 'cause the sun would bounce off her tits and blind me every time she turned. Yeah, even in the state I was in I was checking out her rack. I was a warm-blooded male; we take every opportunity life throws at us to eye fuck a hot piece of ass. Stop judging me. If you had a dick you'd know what I'm talking about. I'd tried to tap that ass when I'd first arrived on campus but she wouldn't give me the time of day. Hell, she was a junior and I was "fresh meat," but that never was a problem for me before. Like I mentioned earlier, I was accustomed to anything with a pulse that walked on two legs being more than willing to accommodate my "needs." So when Rosie said, "Thanks, but no thanks, little fucker," I should have had an inkling that was the beginning of the end.

Anyway, back to me naked and taped to a damn pole.

So, Rose busted through and started bitching out the ringleader of the whole shitfest: Emmett. The color drained from the mountain of a man, his face turning a sallow white. He knew an ass kicking when he saw it coming. I have to admit that while I was grateful that she was standing up for me, I was fucking embarrassed that she had to defend me at all. If I didn't look like a pussy before, I sure as hell did now. To make a suck-ass situation suck even more? I had to piss like a race horse. I had half a mind to let a golden shower rain down on all those sons of bitches! But something told me that wouldn't help me at all.

I heard Rose tear into Emmett with all her claws. "What the hell are you thinking?" She whacked him upside the back of the head. "You know you and these asstards you call 'brothers' are under judicial sanction! If you get tied to this stupid-ass prank then not only will you be suspended from the team, but the fraternity could be suspended as well! You have to use that thick-ass skull of yours for more than bashing the hell out of quarterbacks, Em!"

"Dammit, Rosie! Could you be any more of a fucking killjoy? We're just havin' a little fun, right, Eddiekins?" "Em" didn't sound the least bit admonished.

"Yeah, fun. Bring out the fucking clowns," I answered him. Hell, at this point, if I couldn't afford a little snark then when the fuck could I? I heard the sick sound of tape ripping before I felt it. It's what I imagine a victim of a car accident experiences just before the pain of their face smashing against the windshield registers. I almost passed the hell out once I did feel it, though. "Fuuuuuuuuucccccccck! Dammit, that sucks monkey cock!"

"Sorry, Eddie," came Rose's sincere apology. I panted, trying desperately to catch my breath and not cry like a pussy.

"Dammit, Rose! You couldn't have just cut the tape? I'm gonna need a fucking skin graft!"

"I said I was sorry! Would you rather me leave your sorry ass mounted to the flagpole until maintenance comes by? 'Cause I could and I will. I'm just trying to help here."

"No," Emmett whined, "You're trying to suck the life out of our parade, like always!"

"Shut it, shit for brains. You don't get a say here. I just bet this was your brilliant scheme, and if you get the Dee-Gees in trouble with this retarded move of yours, I will personally chop off your nuts, saute them in butter, and feed them to you bite by bite. How the hell did the Delta Gammas get sistered with the likes of you Neanderthal Delts?

"Cut the hazing shit, Em, and stop picking on little freshmen. It doesn't make you a bigger man, just a bigger prick!"

With that, she finished cutting me free and tossed me my boxer briefs that some kind soul had reeled down from where they had flown in place of the flag. I slipped the thin fabric on as quickly as I could, not caring at this point who saw my junk. Some other guy tossed me a t-shirt from his backpack. I recognized him as a fellow Delta Tau Delta pledge. I thanked him and promised I'd get the shirt back to him as soon as possible.

"This is why I won't go out with you, you dolt! Just think about that while you're romancing your right hand this Saturday night." With that she stormed back the way she'd come. But we clearly heard her as she spat out, "And I hope you and your hairy palm go blind!"

I took the opportunity to skulk away as the crowd watched her spectacular ass move to wherever she was headed before she happened upon our little gathering. Ducking between buildings and behind trees, I managed to make it back to my dorm with just a few odd looks and disgusted glares from passersby.

I immediately jumped in the shower to try to wash away as gently as possible the tape that was still stuck to my body. After ten minutes of soaping and peeling, I just gave the fuck up and firmly grasped the silver tail and ripped. I imagine my pansy-ass scream could be heard clear across campus.

My how the mighty hath fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just want to say a very heartfelt thank you to the following ladies for their continued support and general all around ball busting: My muse, Tellingmelies, the best pre-readers ever: Barburella, FanGirl78, LauraLoo7, and Megsly. You all are my "happy place!"
> 
> Golden Boy escapes to live another day... in humiliation! What more could happen to this kid? You'll just have to come back and see. Oh, and feel free to write me and tell how you feel about poor GB.


	3. He Who "Delt" It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all surprise me with your responses to Golden Boy! Some of you feel all sorry for him and want to cuddle him, but more of you LOVE seeing such a prick get what he deserves. The rest of you can't stop laughing long enough to choose a side. LOL I'm just glad you all seem to be enjoying watching him squirm, I sure do!
> 
> A few of you expressed concerns about the "hazing" that was going on. The stupidity in this fic is really more like practical jokes on steroids. Em doesn't want to intentionally hurt anyone, and while he sometimes forgets his own strength, he'd never let it go that far. Trust me, I got this.
> 
> As always, TwilightMundi gets the credit for my grammar and punctuation being post worthy. (She would like for me to note here that the misspelling of "Delt" in the title of this chapter was intentional. And I would like to mention that, if you see a mistake, that's probably 'cause I went in behind her and screwed something up.) Thank you, lovely.

I sat in my first lecture of the day rubbing the still hairless patches of skin on my wrists and forearms. The "Great Hole to the Pole" incident had been two weeks earlier, and I could still feel the pain of the tape as I pulled that shit off. It was like a phantom ache or something. I'd never look at a roll of duct tape or a flagpole the same way again. I seriously thought I might've had Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or some other shit like that.

I tried to listen to the professor as he droned on about something or other. It was "Principles of Microeconomics," and I was bored out of my fucking mind. I was beginning to seriously think that these blowhard professors sat at home at night and thought up ways to make this shit more boring. To make a sucky lecture even worse, the dude, who seemed to be getting off on the sound of his own voice, had written the text, too. So most of us had read this riveting material sometime in the previous twenty-four hours. Now I was bored and pissed that I had wasted the two hours I'd spent trying to read every word he was spewing verbatim from the aforementioned snoozetastic text. I spent the rest of the class watching the hands creep around the clock face. Apparently it was just as bored as the rest of us were.

My poor brain, which was slowly being lulled into a petrified state, passed the time by listing the fuckton of other places it would rather be. The gym, in the cafeteria, in the library working on the research paper I had due for my humanities class, sleeping, balls deep in some hot chick (Who am I kidding? I'd rather be balls deep in any chick, considering my current dating life and my level of desperation at this point.), football practice, standing in line at the DMV... hell, honestly? Anywhere was better than the here and now. I'd even consider packing up and heading back to Forks. No, I wasn't that desperate. Yet. Give me another month; by then football season will be well underway, and I'll probably be begging to crawl home to Mommy.

We were a week into classes, and the first game of the season was just around the corner. The team had been together since the end of June, conditioning and learning plays. If I known then what I knew now I probably would have stayed my ass in the Pacific Northwest. But back when I had accepted the scholarship I was caught up in the fanfare of the excitement of press releases and photo shoots to announce my school choice. I was feeling cocky with all the wining and dining the University of Florida, Florida State University, and Texas A&M were throwing at me. They were my top three choices and each of them were trying to sway me to accept their invitations to attend their esteemed institution. The high opinion I already had of myself was just getting higher and higher, like a stripper inching her way up her brass pole. Little did I know that, much like the skanky bitches, my life was about to spiral down its own pole. But not with nearly the grace of a cosmetically enhanced, lap dancing whore.

I remember the excitement I felt as I pulled on the UF cap that sat before me on the press junket table. I thought that once I accepted UF's scholarship I'd be home free. Riding high. Once the Golden Boy, always the Golden Boy. Well, at least that's what the boosters and scouts lead me to believe. All the newspapers and sports networks were heralding me as a four star quarterback and the next Tim Tebow. Whatever, not even gonna touch that shit. That guy's a legend. The week I arrived at UF the Gainesville Sun's headlines read: "The Golden Boy Shines in the Sunshine State!" Looking back, that headline may have been a bit premature. I mean, that was why I was brought to Florida: to pick up where Tebow left off. But those are some fucking big shoes to fill, and I never even entertained the idea that my arrival would be received in any way other than warmly. Shit, I was actually expecting ticker tape parades and dinners in my honor with the way the scouts made everything sound. Ass lickers. Instead, the entire two and a half months I'd been at UF were pure torture. And rush week hadn't even started yet. I was fucked beyond the realm of fuckdom.

8=D

Practices were grueling. I thought I knew pain; I'm a QB for fuck's sake, but the shit I'd been through back in Forks was a fucking tea party compared to the paces Coach was putting us through. Not that I'd ever been to a tea party before. That shit's for old biddies with grey hair and saggy tits. I'll have you know my tits don't sag. Wanna feel? But I digress. Between Coach riding my ass and the hits I'd been taking during practices I looked like a giant walking bruise. My ribs were in a constant state of being taped up thanks to that fucker, Emmett McCarty. What was his major malfunction? The dude never missed an opportunity to knock the shit out of me. Hell, he'd hit me so many times and with so much force that if I shook my head you could hear my brain sloshing back and forth in my skull. Once, about a month into practices, I couldn't take that shit anymore. After a particularly hard (and cheap) shot I jumped up and, flicking the snaps off my helmet, ripped it from my head and slammed it to the ground only inches from his gargantuan foot. The asstard stood there laughing and celebrating the hit with his buddies. I grabbed him by the shoulder pad to swing him around to face me.

"Hey! What the fuck is your problem, McCarty? Are you trying to kill me before we even play our first game?" I was seething. If this were a real game and not a scrimmage, then as offensive tackle it was his job to protect me. Instead it seemed like he was trying to end my college football career with every play.

"I'm just playin' the game, pretty boy. I thought that's what we were all here to do, or were you under the assumption this was ballet class?"

"No go, ass wipe. I'm not buying that you're just 'playing.' Now, what's the deal? If you have a problem with me then let's just deal with it so we can go back to playing as a fucking team! Otherwise we should just fight to the death and get this shit over with!" I yelled just inches from the guard on his helmet.

"You are my problem, Eddiekins! I can't stand pricks like you who think you should just be handed everything. I'm thinking if you were handed an ass kicking, then maybe that over-inflated ego of yours will finally hang as limp as your dick!" Just when it looked like Emmett was about to take me up on the whole Mortal Combat thing, Jasper wedged his way between us, pressing a palm firmly on each of our chests and separating us.

"Whoa, there, fellas. No need for a pissin' contest here on the field. It's not good for the grass, and Coach will kill you both if you fuck up his precious practice field." The guy had balls getting between the two of us, but I guess he figured neither of us wanted him dead so he was safe. Thanks to his cojones of titanium and fast thinking, Emmett and I live to piss each other off another day. And another. And another...

In case you've never had the misfortune of visiting Florida, that bitch of a state is hot as hell. In fact, I bet in Hell they say that it's "hot as Florida" when the heat gets going good down there. And we're not out lounging on some beach in banana hammocks. No, our asses are in the damn swamp! (They don't call our arena "The Swamp" for nothing.) Between the heat, one hundred percent humidity, and blood sucking bugs the size of Volkswagen beetles it's a miserable place to be. Are you familiar with UF's mascot? It's a gator, as in Alli-gator. They didn't just choose the fucker 'cause this is Florida. They chose it because the college is infested with them. They're in the lakes, in the swamps, and even in the fucking pools! Last week they had to cancel swim practice because some sorority floozy nearly became the main course for a wayward gator who lived in the lake a few hundred yards away. I would have paid money to see that chick scrambling out of the water when she realized she wasn't alone. Oh, don't look at me like that; you know you'd laugh, too. Besides, she was fine and the university put a new fence around the pool. Problem solved, but needless to say, swimmers check the bottom of the pool before diving in now.

Most of my time prior to the start of classes was tied up with practice. When we weren't practicing on the field then we were either in the gym or doing some team building bullshit. I have always loved being part of a team. The camaraderie, the brotherhood, the sense of depending on one another to do battle against another team: it was all invigorating. But since my arrival had been met with less revelry than the Plague, I was finding it difficult to connect with these guys who I was supposed to be trusting and working together with. Not to mention they questioned my every call and belittled me every fucking chance they could. Like the time they all pissed in my Gatorade. Seriously. They pissed in my sports drink!

Ever drink Gatorade? I hate the shit, but I learned to tolerate it because that's what the high school managers gave us to keep us hydrated during practices and games. Well, the stuff was developed where? Yep, you guessed it: UF. Hence the gator in Gatorade. Down here, you'd think that the shit was tap water for as much as everyone drinks it! Seriously, go into a restaurant in Gainesville and order a glass of water and I can almost promise you the waitress brings you a glass of Gatorade. I knew it tasted "off," but it wasn't until Emmett asked how I was enjoying my "pisserade" that I realized why it was more disgusting than usual. I made a mental note to never accept a drink from McCarty or any of his lackeys again. That was after I puked all over the sidelines.

One practice, not long after the "pisserade" incident, I had just finished choking down a cup of the "Drink of Champions" in an effort to remain vertical during a typical sweltering practice. I was hunched down in the line up, calling out the play, when I first saw her. She was perched in the bleachers that rimmed the practice field, her face hidden behind a camera lens. I had no idea how long she'd been there, but I knew it the moment Emmett arrived, 'cause the fucker railroaded my ass. I must have called "hike" but was distracted. I paid for my stupidity with a fuckton of humiliation and pain. As I lay there face up in the sun-warmed grass, I looked sideways towards where she had sat, but she was gone. A moan of defeat mixed with disappointment and pain rolled from my chest as I wondered for the millionth time what the hell I was doing in this swamp and where the fuck my life had gone. I could hear Emmett and his stupid minions chuckling around me until they were silenced with a loud thwack! and a very pissed, very feminine voice.

"What the fuck, Em? Are trying to kill him?" I pried my eyes open to see who was bitching out Emmett McCarty this time.

"Holy shit, Bells! What did you just hit me with and what are you doing out here? This is a closed practice, get the fuck off the field," Emmett commanded. My head lolled from side to side trying to see who he was yelling back at. I finally caught a glimpse of her as she stepped into my field of vision, blocking the sun as she stood over me.

"My clipboard, and you know that I have a press pass. Don't ever talk to me that way, asstard, and this shit has to stop! That was a cheap shot! He's your teammate, for Pete's sake!"

"Why are you chicks all so eager to defend this prick? Don't think Eddiekins can take care of himself?"

"No one could if they had to deal with all you daft Delts. I swear you've all been knocked in the head one too many times." The shouting stopped, and she squatted down close to me, her head blocking the sun. I was having trouble focusing. "You okay?" By the time I realized she was talking to me, coach had jogged over to our little party and was hovering over me as well. She was all I could see, though. Her face was completely blacked out, but could make out the thick curtain of hair that fell all around it. I felt someone taking off my helmet, and I tried to sit the fuck up so I could see who she was. I sucked in a sharp gasp.

"Whoa, there, buddy. I think you need to stay right where you are for now. Can you talk?" asked the hair with a voice of an angel.

What the fuck? An angel? Who the hell talks like that? I tell you who: a pussy, that's who! Pull your shit together!

Shut. Up. I growled back at Captain Kirk. Or Shatner. Did it really matter? They were really one and the same, and both annoying as hell. I just wish whoever he was would leave me alone. The last thing I needed was my prick of an inner voice to pick that moment to jump in and join the fun. Fun being a relative fucking term at the moment.

I tried to answer her, but my chest really hurt like a motherfucker. Emmett must have finally cracked a rib that time. That shit hurt! My hand went to my ribs, and I groaned in pain. Somehow I managed to squeak out a quiet, "Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!"

"Stay still, son. Let me get these pads off ya so I can get a look at those ribs," coach instructed as he rolled me to my side to loosen the safety gear.

So much for protective wear, the inner voice of doom chuckled sarcastically.

"Careful, coach, he doesn't look so good," worried the sweet voice. My eyes shifted to catch a glimpse of her just as she had her head turned, talking to the man who was rolling my battered body around like it was fucking pizza dough. All I saw was a quick flash of a smile, but I was convinced in that instant that she was an angel.

I think you took a hit to the head as well as the chest, Golden Boy.

I mean it, dammit! Shut the fuck up, Shatner! I'm trying to die here, and you can't even respect that! I was at my breaking point.

"I think he's gonna pass out. Emmett, you stupid ass, go get the guy some water or Gatorade or something, and stop snickering before I kick you so hard you have to fish your athletic cup from your prostate!" She was a feisty angel, for sure. From somewhere deep inside my head I heard the opening strains of "Lady" by Styx. I had no clue where that shit came from, except that my mother had an affinity for sappy love songs. Regardless, the song filtered through my fuzzy mind.

Dude, what's with the cheesy 70's power ballads playing over the loud speakers in here? Can you cut that shit out? It's getting old and really fucking annoying!

You're getting really old, and you're always fucking annoying! Why do you even hang around if I annoy you so much? I was here first, so just pack up your shit and go back to the Starship Enterprise!

Oh, no way! I'm sticking around for a front row seat to this train wreck. There's no getting rid of me now.

I realized it was pointless to argue with the voice in my head. I had a moment where I worried that I may be suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder. Great. I went from thinking I had PTSD earlier to worrying about having DID? Now I was a fucking hypochondriac, too. I decided to add it to the list of all the ways I was stacking up to be exactly like the losers I had despised in high school. I was falling fast.

I moaned. Between the pain in my side and the pain in the ass that was currently squatting in my cerebral cortex like a bum in an alleyway, I was ready to call it quits and sign a DNR form so those fuckers wouldn't try to resuscitate me when I finally died. Hell, I'd pull the damn plug myself. That is if there'd been a plug to pull.

As the last notes of the love song wafted over my synapses, before I blacked out, I heard the voice of the angel one last time.

"So help me, McCarty, you had best get your head out of your ass, or our deal is off! I swear, you and the Delts will be on your own. And as for our other 'arrangement,' well, you can sure as hell forget about that, mister!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Bella's here! But, wait- what? What "arrangement"? What deal? The plot thickens like the humidity in Florida!
> 
> Special thanks to my pre-readers: LauraLoo, Barburella (the Pimp QUEEN!), and Megsly. I big puffy heart you gals!
> 
> Musey, you are my sunshine. Thank you for your encouragement and faith in my ability to write a foul-mouthed prick, and make unsuspecting readers believe he could possibly be the Edward we know and love. I love you!
> 
> If it were within my realm of awesomeness to grant you all your greatest wish, then I would do so. Thanks for reading and your comments my mah girlie bits giggle. (That's a good thing. I think.)


	4. Boys Will Be Boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the glory goes to the Grammar Guru, TwilightMundi, who deserves a medal at the very least for the edits she's subjected to. (I bet she even edited this author's note.) The woman has the patience of a saint. And I love her.
> 
> A special HAPPY BIRTHDAY shout out to my Musey, Tellingmelies. You know how I feel about you. The day you were born the sun shone brighter, the birds sang sweeter, and the world became a better place. All my love, little sis.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything Twilight related belongs to SMeyer. All I have is another fic starring her characters that I can't seem to write. Oh, does that mean I have writer's block too? Well, on the bright side, I get to add that to the "mine" list. I'm such a loser...

Two weeks. Two weeks later and my ribs were still tender from the smack down that asstard Emmett had laid down on me. Turns out he didn't actually crack anything, though I don't know how. Still, I'd been in enough fucking pain to bench me from practice for a few days. I was grateful for not having the shit pounded out of me, but I was concerned that our first game was around the corner. So as soon as I was cleared for practice I was back out on the field even though it hurt like a motherfucker each time I cocked back the canon and let the ball fly. Coach must have gotten a hold of McCarty and his crew, 'cause the unnecessary roughness was replaced with a cool, indifferent attitude. And not a minute too soon. Thankfully, we were able to pull our shit together to win our first few games of the season, and get a bit of confidence under our belts. It was only a handful of players, for the most part, who continued to see things Emmett's way. But just because shit on the field calmed down didn't mean that everything did.

For starters, I couldn't get the inky image of the girl from practice out of my head. I never got a good look at her, but my overactive imagination eagerly filled in the "blanks." She was like a beautiful chick version of David. You know, the dude that killed the giant? I'd lost count of how many times I'd jacked off to the picture I'd conjured up of the smart ass bombshell who'd stood up to my real life Goliath. In fact, we were spending so much quality time together that I'd started calling "Junior" Goliath. And my imagined "Bella" would beat the fucker relentlessly during our "alone time." I hadn't spent that much time tuggin' the turtle since I first figured out that I could. I was walking around campus with a hard on of biblical proportions. It seemed like I'd gone from "smooth ass mother fucker" to just plain old "lame fucker" over night.

It wasn't enough that I was suffering public humiliation at the hands of others. No, apparently Karma was a skanky bitch who'd been hanging around me lately. In addition to the usual antics of Emmett and Company, Karma had decided to join in the fun. That's how I came to find myself standing at a table of fucking hot college women, all of them sputtering and drenched in soda that I had spilled on them after tripping over my own feet. Karma was also who I was blaming for the sudden onset of stomach issues. Namely, gas. I was beginning to get a little worried about my near constant need to toot my ass horn. It wouldn't have been so bad if said ass horn didn't choose the most inopportune moments to blow. I swear, there was this one time where I could have sworn I sharted as I sat in Senora Gomez's Spanish lecture. Every fucking head turned to look back at me. What could I do but quip, "Perdona me. Donde es el bano?" I flew out of there and to the nearest bathroom. I think my little gas problem was from the stress I'd been under, but just in case it wasn't I started popping Beano like they were Skittles. Between Emmett and Karma, there were few embarrassing situations I'd yet to live through. Or so I told myself.

UF football players are expected to also join the Delta Tau Delta fraternity. It's some shit about tradition or something. So when it came time for Rush Week, all the "fresh meat" were expected to rush and subject themselves to the fuckery of initiation for the coveted honor of being inducted Greek. Most every college has strict, harsh guidelines regarding the very sensitive topic of hazing. Some are more lax in their definition of what constitutes "hazing"- overlooking pranks and asinine behavior as long as no one is injured or any property damaged. Others are more vigilant, and will take any little joke and blow it up into a matter of National Security. UF fell somewhere between the two. They took all allegations of hazing very seriously. Long gone are the days of the "boys will be boys" mentality. All it took was one little pussy whining to mommy and daddy about how his "brothers" held him down and shaved off all his hair. And by all his hair I mean all of his hair. Think naked mole rat, people.

That seems to have been the case with the Delta Tau Deltas a few years back, and as a result, the Delts landed their asses in front of a judicial review board and on probation for a period of four years. This meant no alcohol on the house premises, extra community service projects, and the chapter president and officers were required to attend some lame classes about preventing hazing. Not to mention that the chapter's every move was scrutinized.

That was four years ago, and this was the first year the Delts would be able to fully participate in Greek Week activities. Not that they weren't still being watched; now they could just fuck things up more. As a precaution, the President of the Delts, Jasper Whitlock, had procured the help and guidance of their sister sorority, the Dee-Gees to keep them out of the shit house. Most of us suspected he was just trying to get into the tiny ass shorts of the sorority's prezzie, Rosalie Hale, but turns out the guy really did want to earn back the good rep the Delts once had. So, the Dee-Gees were commandeered to help their wayward brothers stay on the straight and narrow. No easy task, I can assure you.

How did I know all this shit? 'Cause we had to listen to all of it when we sat through the first Rush meeting. Man, that meeting was long as hell, and more boring than watching the hair on your balls grow back! Moments from the past few months flashed through my mind as I sat there, listening to some descriptions of what the university considered hazing. I was certain that some of the shit I'd been through lately could be considered hazing on some campus somewhere, but I didn't see it that way. Sure, it sucked; being singled out and embarrassed was never fun, but aside from the shit that went down in practice, I was never hurt or injured. No harm, no foul. And I wasn't a pussy. I could take whatever shit they threw at me. Monkey fuckers. Mostly we were forced to do retarded things like wear "Dee-Gee Pledge" shirts to classes, take shifts as Speedo-clad lawn ornaments in front of the frat house, and eat really nasty as shit things like haggis or liver and onions that our "big brothers" would pack for our lunches. And don't forget the live cricket spitting contest. I can swear I can still taste cricket ass on my tongue. There was the time I walked out to the Viper to find it covered in condoms and whipped cream with the words "Condom Boy" painted on the back window, and "Cum or Bust!" on the side windows.

It would seem my brothers had a theme when it came to my initiation. That theme became abundantly clear when I was abruptly woken up from the first frat party I'd ever attended with an unceremonious shove off the couch and a pre-dawn bullhorn wake up call, that called attention to the pounding headache I was desperate to sleep off.

"Get out, scum! You don't have to go home, but you ain't stayin' your asses here!" Emmett was loud enough on his own; I wondered which of these stupid asstards had thought to give him a bullhorn. Whoever it was, I can promise you MENSA wouldn't be banging down his door to hand him a membership card. My moan was met with a chorus of equally pained expressions of disbelief. One by one we all rose and shuffled out the door, which was slammed behind us. The twelve of us stood there in a haze, clustered on the front lawn. The sun was just starting to rise, and as the sky brightened we looked around at one another. I busted out laughing at the guy, Trey, who was rubbing his eyes with one hand and scratching his balls with other. Scribbled across his forehead was a crude drawling of the female genitalia in what could only be permanent marker. Everyone looked to see what I was laughing about, and joined in the fun; pointing and cackling. That is until we all realized that we had something drawn on our foreheads. I'll give you one guess what I'd been branded with. You got it. A dick. The fuckers drew a dick on my face. Not just a little one, either. This bitch was huge. I took solace in telling myself they were going for accuracy.

Dream on, peen boy. You wish Goliath was that big.

Why you gotta hate? If you have to sound like Shatner then why can't you be more like the "Negotiator"? He's so much nicer...

What the fuck are you rambling about, dick head? He quipped.

That's it, I'm calling Leonard Nimoy and he's gonna go all "Vulcan Death Grip" on your ass. You're fired! And suddenly I was doing impressions of The Donald for the imaginary Captain Kirk in my head. What that hell did I drink last night?

I went home and tried to scrub the penis off my face. Ten minutes and at least six layers of skin later, there was still a faint outline of the monster dick, but it wasn't as noticeable. Yes it was. I decided to skip class that day and snuck out to the store for some baby oil. I read online that it would take off permanent marker. Yeah, I Googled that shit.

That afternoon my parents called to see how college life was treating me. Mom just wanted to be sure I was eating enough and that I had clean underwear, while Dad hinted around at all the "trouble" he was sure I was getting "in to." We talked about my classes, Rush week, and about the few games we'd already played and won. Mom gushed about how I'd grown up too fast or some shit. Dad reminded me to study before he mentioned the possibility of their coming for Parents' weekend.

Huh, if they only knew. All I do these days is study. I thought to myself.

I assured him I had more than enough fucking time to study. "We're so proud of you, son," he said, "You seem to be adjusting to college life nicely." I brushed off his compliment, "Proud? Of my serious lack of a social life? I'm such a social pariah that I have to study just to absorb the loneliness." Mom just laughed, thinking I was joking. She mumbled something about the Edward she knew and loved had never been lonely a day in his life. Just goes to show you how you can live with someone for almost eighteen years and never really know them.

8=D

Emmett quickly became my least favorite fucker. I could overlook the crap he put me through during Rush week; I understood that. I could even forgive the ass for trying to kill me on the field. But the day I saw him with his arm around her- well, that was the day I decided I had no use for the guy and he took the numero uno spot on my "Fucker" list.

Her was Bella Swan, and she sat two rows in front of and one seat over from me in my Music Theory class. I was minoring in music while getting a BS in Business Administration, specifically marketing. What can I say? I'm a great BS'er, so I figured I might as well get paid to BS people out of their hard earned money. Music had always been important to me, and I rationalized that the formal instruction would come in handy when developing ad campaigns. I could write the shit out of jingles; too bad most of them wouldn't make it past the censors. They were fucking brilliant, if I do say so myself. So, in an effort to obtain a well-rounded edgamacation I added "music minor" to the list of shit I was cramming into my college experience. I nestled it in there between being a star QB and all around fuckup. I've always been an overachiever.

The first time I saw her I had no clue who she was. I noticed her sitting in front of me as I took inventory of the other students filling the class; but she wasn't my usual type. Still, my eyes would drift over to her during class. The chick was pretty enough and all, she wasn't Quasimotto or anything, but she was, well... thick, for lack of a better word. At least compared the kind of girls I was usually seen with. She reminded me of a dark haired Marilyn Monroe or maybe a Sophia Loren type. She looked curvy; her tits all round and full. Not that I'm complaining; all guys love tits, and the general rule of thumb is "the bigger, the better." And when her long, brown hair fell around her shoulders it hit those glorious melons right where they were fullest. The soft curls bounced against the perfect swell of flesh when she walked, hypnotizing me as I watched her take her seat. Then, when she turned to sit, her ass was, well… I think Beyonce said that shit best when she coined the phrase "bootylicious." This chick was packing serious ammunition both coming and going.

That mouthful should be forced to sport signage, maybe something like: WARNING! DANGEROUS CURVES AHEAD! For once I actually agreed with Shatner on something.

One day, I heard her respond to the name "Bella" when the TA went through the roster and I finally made the connection: this was the Angel from the field!. I may have blacked out on the field like a pussy that day, but I remember very clearly Emmett yelling at a Bella, and face it, that's not a common name. I spent the rest of that class watching her in a whole new way, learning her mannerisms. She tapped her pen on her notebook, and I wondered if she even knew she was doing it. She also had a way of threading her hair through her fingers as she listened to the lecture. That class was over way too soon. Before I knew it, everyone around me was collecting their books and heading out the door. I scrambled to follow her out, nearly dumping every-fucking-thing out of my backpack because I forgot to zip it in my hurry to keep up. I just wanted a chance to say hello, and yeah, maybe I wanted to see her tits up close, too. But mostly I just wanted to say hey. I burst through the door, tripping on the threshold as I did, sending my book and notes flying for real this time. I swore and squatted to pick up my shit, stuffing it all in the bag. When I looked up I spotted her walking across the grass. I stood up, trying to decide if I should chase after her or wait until our next class to approach her.

The decision was made for me though, 'cause that's when she jogged right into the open arms of one Emmett Fucker McCarty. What the fuck? I watched as he lifted her off the ground in a bone crushing hug. Then, taking her bag from her he slung it over his shoulder, he wrapped his other massive arm around her neck. It looked like he was choking her, but he pulled her tight to his side and her arms wound around his waist. I was about to turn away from the nauseating view, but before I could I saw him press a tender kiss to her temple. She looked up at him like she worshiped him. The two of them walked off together, all tied up in one another. Figuratively and literally.

What could anyone see in that college educated Neanderthal?

Amen, Shatner! When did you start making sense?

Shut up, Golden Boy. You're such a kiss ass sometimes. Annnnd Shatner was back in the number two spot on the "Fucker List."

That was the day that I decided that I hated Emmett, and the day I learned I had a thing for busty brunettes. Well, one in particular. It also went down in history as the day that Edward Golden Boy Cullen didn't get the girl. Yeah, that day sucked monkey balls, and unfortunately it was just one day in a long parade of monkey ball sucking days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick. heartfelt thank you to Barburealla for being my sole pre-reader this chapter. Her dedication to seeing Golden Boy suffer immensely is to be admired. I live for the words "It's perfect! I love it!" from her. That means that his torture was thorough and sufficiently uncomfortable. Smooches, Barbi.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and laughing at, er- WITH me. XOXOXO


	5. What Goes Around, Comes Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TwilightMundi was, once again, hard at work behind the scenes, cringing at my pathetic typos and crimes against grammar. Thank you, my love, for your commitment to making me less of a crappy writer. You have a long road ahead of you.
> 
> Disclaimer: Anything Twilight belongs to SMeyer. I have heart palpitations every time I update. Yay, me!

Finally! Peace and quiet!

I settled into a desk in a back corner of the library and spread my books out before unpacking my MacBook and firing it up. I'd had to resort to studying in the hallowed halls of geeks and nerds thanks to my spunkmeister of a room mate, Embry. Apparently the guy thought he was in the running for the Guinness Book of World Records' "Most Wank Offs in a Day," and each day he had to beat his personal best. I swear he was gonna beat his wang right off. Half the time I walked into our room I expected to see him "jerkin' the Gerkin", the other half I expected to find him sobbing with his dick broken off in his hand. Seriously, though, can't you get hairy palms from doin' that shit too much? The guy needed an intervention or something. So rather than having to pretend like I couldn't hear the fucker jacking off not five feet from me I opted to spend as little time in the room as possible. Hence my new favorite haunt: the fucking library.

I plugged my ear buds directly into my laptop and turned the volume up loud enough to drown out any sounds around me. The clean bass line of Kings of Leon's "I Want You" thumped in my ears as I got comfortable and focused on the mountain of reading I had to do. This of course brought her to mind; then again, it seemed everything brought Bella to mind. About the only time I wasn't actively concentrating on the chick was during football. Unless she showed up to watch practice, which she did quite often. She'd perch about midway up the bleachers with her Canon Camera and long lens then stay the entire practice. After that first incident on the field I'd learned that little Miss Sunshine was on staff at The Alligator, the university's paper. She was a regular contributor to the sports and features sections. This explained her all access pass to practices and the field. Well, that and the fact that she was obviously giving head to the first string offensive tackle, AKA Emmett McCarty. I could block out the peripheral view of her sitting up there for the most part, but just knowing that she was that close, clicking pictures and writing random statistics on that little clipboard of hers, was enough to drive me to distraction. It took every ounce of my concentration to not glance over at her every thirty seconds.

Man, Golden Boy, you're more pussy whipped than I imagined, and believe me, I pictured that shit complete with flogger.

Real funny, Captain. Speaking of furry things, do me a favor and go play with your tiny ass Tribbles and give me a break? Nobody wants you here.

Lies. And my Tribbles aren't so very tiny. Just ask Nurse Chapel. She's intimately acquainted with them.

Well, that's more info than I ever wanted to know about you and your hairy bits. Nasty fucker.

Practice wasn't the only place Bella Swan's presence tortured me. No, it would seem that two thousand square acres was not a big enough campus to facilitate at least one fucking day where I didn't have to see her and McCarty together. It was as if they were joined at the hip like Siamese Twins and roaming the campus like a traveling freak show. The only place I knew was safe was at the back table in the library. Emmett had an aversion to musty books and the Dewey Decimal System like vampires had for garlic and crucifixes. Up until recently I had shared his allergic reaction to the hallowed halls, but it had become my haven where I knew I wouldn't have to see the two of them. Unfortunately I had also taken to daydreaming when I was there. My thoughts drifted to images of all the dirty things I could be doing to one Bella Swan amongst the stacks of this shrine to higher learning as I pored over syllabuses and reading assignments. If it weren't for the copious amount of time I spent here I wouldn't get anything accomplished. Apparently when it came to studying in college the key was quantity not quality. At least in my case, 'cause that was all I seemed to be doing anymore. Well, I called it "studying," and I guess it could still be considered as such in a very loose definition of the term. No matter how strong my resolve to buckle down and actually study, it wouldn't take long for my mind to wander to its new favorite subject. If I'd been enrolled in studying "Swan 101," I'd have had a fucking A+ and some hot as hell diagrams and PowerPoint presentations to show for all my hard work. I just wished there was a chance I could talk to her alone. For once.

You had your chance with her, hot pants, but you fucked it up by just being you. Excellent work, by the way.

Thanks for the vote of confidence and pep talk, Shat.

Anytime, Twat Boy. That's what I'm here for.

My complete and total failure was stuck playing in a continuous loop thanks to the diligent efforts of The Shat. He reveled in reminding me of my every fuck up, just one of the reasons I wasn't fond of the jerk who lived in my head. But he was right. I had fucked up any chance I may have had with Bella Swan. Not that I stood a chance with Emmett McCarty up her ass all the time. It's not like I hadn't tried to talk to her, but the girl had the biggest douche as a boyfriend and bodyguard. The handful of times I'd tried to talk to her I'd managed to embarrass myself royally or within moments of our meeting Emmett would swoop in and whisk her away. I guess I owed him a debt of gratitude; at least I was spared further self-humiliation.

We had spoken once or twice, though. Okay, five times. We'd spoken five times. And I could recall each time with perfect clarity. The first was when I got the chance to properly thank her for her concern for me when I'd been knocked out on the field. She smiled this angelic smile and looked down at her feet, assuring me I had nothing to thank her for. I couldn't help but take the opportunity to look at her up close. She was beautiful. I really wanted to put my hands on those round hips of hers and pull her to me. To feel her soft curves pressed against my hard cock. But I resisted, and then promptly sneezed all in her hair. It was bad.

Our second conversation began with me apologizing for our last, but that's about as far as we got because the professor walked in and we had to get to our seats. The third conversation lasted a bit longer and I got as far as asking her out for coffee. She looked like she might accept, but then looked up over my shoulder at something and said, "Um, well, Edward... I wish I could but I uh, have to wash my hair." She picked up a lock of it to emphasize her point.

"Now? You have to wash your hair right this minute?"

"Yeah. I wish I could join you, really. It's, um, it's snot you, it's me." Then she snorted out a giggle. I was surprised by her answer.

Was she laughing at me? Am I just a joke to her?

I was beginning to get really fucking upset, but then she touched my arm, "I'm kidding Edward. Lighten up. But I really can't go for coffee now. Sorry. Thanks for asking, though. Later!" And as I watched her run off to meet Emmett a few yards away I realized that I'd never have anything she'd want. Not when she had him.

Pussy.

I mentally gave Shat the finger. I didn't have it in me to argue with him right then.

The next two exchanges were Greek related and while monumental moments to me, they were just casual conversation. The common, "Hey, how are ya?" or "Could you help me set these tables up for the party tonight?" I had to face the facts, depressing as they may be: my privileged life as I remembered it was long gone, Bella Swan loved Emmett McCarty, my chances were "none" to "no fucking chance in hell" that I'd ever have a chance with her, and I was just as pussy-whipped over this girl as The Shat said. Oh, and add to that list that I was officially thinking of The Shat as an actual person. Call the men in white coats. I'd lost my mind.

I couldn't help but wonder where my life had gone. I mean, where was the life I had known all through high school? Had things changed that much in a few short months? I used to be this cocky, self-assured guy. Now I couldn't even ask a girl out for coffee without worrying about being shot down. I wondered if some band geek was somewhere out there in the universe living my life, the one I used to know, while I was stuck in this Twilight Zone of noogies, atomic wedgies, and lonely Friday nights.

8==D

A bunch of the Delts had planned to meet on the Green for the first Friday Fright Night of the semester. Every Friday the Student Union would show some cheesy as hell slasher film out on the Green Banana. They'd project the movie onto the side of the Reitz Student Union Center, and you know what they say, "If you slash it, they will come." Hundreds of students would brave the mammoth mosquitoes and pack onto the Green to lounge on blankets and in camp chairs, all for the pleasure of watching fake blood and even faker tits. They were showing the stupidest slasher of all time: "Freddy vs. Jason." It really didn't matter, though. It was really just an excuse for the student body to hang out. So a bunch of us freshmen pledges were sent over to the Green to save room for whoever came out. We were expecting the Dee-Gees to show as well. They didn't trust the cleanliness of our sheets and blankets so they were bringing their own. Like we'd bring shit we'd jizzed on. Give us a little credit.

We sectioned off a plot of prime viewing area where the ground sloped just enough to see over the heads of the people in front of us but not so close that we'd be straining our necks. There wouldn't really be all that much movie watching, though. There'd be more talking and watching of the opposite sex and hopefully more making out than talking. When the girls showed up with armfuls of freshly laundered blankets that smelled like Spring Breeze or some shit, it was like heaven. It didn't take long to cover the grass and everyone quickly dove onto the pallets. Emmett, Rose, Alice, Jasper, and Bella took up prime real estate in the center. I had no hopes of sitting anywhere near Bella, seeing as she was already planted in front of McCarty and leaning against his knobby ass knees. Rose and Alice perched next to her, gabbing and giggling with their heads huddled together like they were out on the field calling plays. I couldn't help but think that if they just turned their heads a little bit to the side, and moved in a tad closer that they'd be locked in a full on, three way make out session. Girl on girl on girl... God that would have been hot! I was rudely interrupted from my fucking amazing daydream by none other than the shit-meister himself, Emmett.

"Hey, Eddiekins, how about you go get us all something cool to drink? Your treat." It wasn't really a request, more like a veiled threat.

"Don't start, Em. Leave the Golden Boy alone. The movie's about to start. Get up and get your own drink if you're so damn thirsty," argued Rose.

"No, Rose. Really, it's cool. I can run and get us some shit. Whattcha guys want?" Em was my "big brother" in the Delts, and it was his job to give me a hard time. I figured I could rack up a few brown noser points by not arguing, but I hadn't expected the entire fucking group of about thirty-five people to shout their beverage orders at me. "Whoa! What the fuck do I look like, a waiter? You lazy ass pussies can go get your own drinks!" I took the requests of those in closest proximity to me and headed off to the front of the Student Union building where there was a concession stand set up for fundraising.

"Need any help, Eddie?" called one of the Dee-Gees. I think her name was Angela. I winced at my now commonplace nickname.

"Thanks, Ang, but I got it."

"Oh, and the seal on my Coke had better not be fucking broken, Golden Boy. You can bet I'll check that shit," boomed McCarty. Apparently Emmett was a tad on the paranoid side and was worried about my seeking retribution for the Pisserade incident. I turned and saluted the asshole sarcastically. Not that it wasn't a great opportunity to get him back, but I'd strike when he least expected it. I did get an idea for a mini payback as I jogged to get the drinks.

Fifteen minutes in a long ass line, eight drinks, and twenty-four dollars later I was back passing out the drinks. I took great pleasure in handing Em his bottle of Coke, factory sealed, of course. Then I leaned over to hand Bella her drink. When her soft fingers brushed against mine I knew exactly what I'd be imagining as I jacked off in the shower later that night: that one touch. That right there was worth the twenty-four bucks to be able to know what it felt like to have her skin pressed to mine. I was hard from the anticipation of what was to come. No pun intended, but that shit's funny. Just as I was about to make a minor adjustment to the major problem that was developing in my jeans I heard the sweet hiss of retaliation. I spun around to get a full on view of my "little plan" in action, but rather than witnessing Emmett McCarty receiving a high pressure Coke shower I saw Bella, Alice, and Rose all squealing and unsuccessfully trying to block the syrupy spray spewing from Bella's drink.

FUUUUUUUK! I must have switched her and Emmett's drinks after I shook the hell out his! Earth, please just open up and swallow me the fuck up now! Dammit.

Golden Boy, prince of the fuck ups strikes again!

I didn't even acknowledge Shatner. I grabbed the bottle that was still sputtering and chucked it away from us, flinching when I heard it thwack against some dude's head. Then I reached for the first thing I could find and started patting and rubbing the sticky drink off Bella and the girls. And by "girls" I mean her tits. Alice and Rose were brushing off the soda from their arms and legs and wringing out their shirts. Bella was doing much the same as I wiped away at the moisture on her top.

"Uh, I can get that, Edward." She laughed. That's when I realized I was pawing her tits. Her very perfect, very round tits. And then I was staring at said tits. I knew I should look away, but the Coke had soaked through the white of the cotton, making the thin knit entirely too see through. She just had to be wearing a white lace bra underneath, and I could barely make out the deeper hue of her nipples through the drenched fabric. Happy to have more content to add to the mental "Bella Folder" to pull out during smexy shower times. I was mesmerized. "And those aren't my eyes you're staring into, Mr Handsy." I shook off the trance her magical boobs had me in and cleared my throat.

"Smooth move, Ex-lax!" Emmett boomed as he stripped of his shirt and handed it to Bella, "Here, hon, put this on. We don't need pervs ogling your goods."

"Aw, thanks, Emmy. You're my knight in shining armor." Her tone was sickly sweet, and a tad sarcastic, "What if I don't mind the occasional ogle?" Whoa, what's this? Trouble in paradise?

Don't get your hopes up, pretty boy, she'll never give you the time of day.

"Hush it, and put on the shirt, Bella. Now."

"Yes, sir!" She saluted him much as I had earlier, then leaned in as she slipped the shirt over her head and whispered to me, "Don't worry about this, Golden Boy. It could have happened to anyone."

"Yeah, but it happened to me. And by default, you. I'm really sorry, Bella. I always seem to be apologizing to you." She pulled her sticky, moist hair back and into a messy ponytail. She was beautiful even in a t-shirt that was seventeen sizes too big for her and all syrupy.

"Why is it that I always end up having to wash my hair after I see you, Cullen?" She teased me good naturally.

I didn't have a response to that one. Except that maybe the universe was conspiring against me to ruin any possibility of getting to know this woman. The movie started then. Defeated and completely embarrassed I moved to the next blanket over and sat with some of the other Delts. Rose was to my left. She elbowed me and nodded in my direction. "Buck up, Midas. It can't be all bad. You may be cursed with the touch, but eventually you'll be surrounded by gold. Just give it time. You'll see."

What the fuck did that mean? To be honest, I didn't really give a rat's ass. I just wanted to go back to the house and crawl under my bed and never come out again. I think I had decent WiFi reception under there, and I was pretty sure I could finish my classes online. I was forming a plan to become a modern day hermit when I chanced a last glance at Bella. I was surprised as hell to see that she was looking back at me. She smiled and gave me a wink.

Shit! I think Bella Swan just winked at me!

Now, why would she do that?

Come on! Don't tell me you didn't see that! She totally winked at me!

Must have been that stellar boob groping you gave her earlier.

Fuck off, Shatner. Can you give me a break? I'm having a moment here.

Just don't get your hopes up. I'd hate to have to say, "I told you so."

Oh, yeah, I'm sure that would kill you.

Well, I'm seldom wrong...

I spent the rest of the movie trying to not read into Bella's change in attitude. I also devoted quite a bit of effort to not remembering how fucking awesome it felt to touch her tits. I was less successful with the latter.

8==D

Things have a funny way of working out. Case in point: Emmett McCarty. Isn't there a saying, "What goes around, comes around"? For the past few months I'd been pinning my every hope on the possibility that the saying held some shred of truth. All my hoping was rewarded the day McCarty came rushing into the empty locker room after practice one day. He stormed past me without even a passing "Eddiekins." He was a mess. Stomping around, slamming his fist into lockers, throwing anything that wasn't bolted to the floor. I looked around wishing someone else was around to witness his display of fuckery. I tried my damnedest to hide the smirk that was tugging at the corners of my mouth.

Karma's a bitch, McCarty.

As much as I was enjoying his temper tantrum, I had a strong enough sense of self-preservation to know that I probably shouldn't stick around 'til the end. There was no need for my face to become an outlet for him to unleash his frustration on. Besides, I happened to like the current arrangement of my facial features. He paced back and forth, mumbling something I didn't quite catch. When he rounded the corner out of sight I decided that was my moment to make a mad dash for the door.

Pussy! Who's afraid of the Big Bad Wolf? The Big Bad Wolf? The Big Bad Wolf? Huh. I didn't know Shatner could sing...

Wolf? He's more like a fucking rabid bear! I'm out of here! You can stick around if you want. I, for one, would like to live to see another fucked up day of my miserable existence.

Whatever, Golden Boy, he's just huffing and puffing. He won't hurt you. Just then a locker door slammed so hard I thought the door had been knocked off. Not permanently, at least. Coach would kill him.

That knob gobbler can blow whatever he wants, but I'm not sticking around for the show.

I started for the door, trying to sneak away without being noticed, and that's when he started yelling. Apparently disassembling the locker room bit by bit wasn't enough to appease the beast within. I may or may not have squealed like a little bitch when that door slammed. And the aforementioned possible squeal is what may have snapped him out of his rampage long enough to acknowledge that he wasn't alone. Either he hadn't noticed my presence before or he'd ignored me. Either way, my shitty, two seconds of luck had obviously run out, 'cause Em rushed around the bank of lockers and glared at me.

"YOU!" He boomed and pointed a meaty finger at me.

Aw, fuck my life! Can't a guy just tuck his dick between his legs and make a hasty retreat around here?

"Eddiekins! Get your ass back in here and sit down!"

Apparently not. FML FML FML FML FML FML FML

RUN, dumb ass! Don't stick around and get us both killed! I'm too pretty to die! Oh, now Shatner had a desire to live. Nice.

Against my own (and Shat's) better judgment, I did as Em commanded. I didn't beg for my life or plead that he not hit my face directly. I didn't say a word. I simply sat back down where I'd been when he came in the room. Yes, I flinched when he slid next to me on the bench and got close enough to me that I could feel his breath on my neck. That shit was just creepy.

"Eddiekins, you know about the ladies, right?" I stared blankly at him. I even contemplated playing dead. Isn't that what you're supposed to do if you come across a bear in the wild? "I mean, you had your share of them before you came here? At least that's what I'm told."

"Uh, sure, I guess so..." I had no idea where he was going with this but I wasn't about to provoke or encourage him. He shot up from the seat like a rocket.

"Fucking chicks! They never know what they want! All 'Ooooh, Emmy! Let me ride your disco stick!' one minute and 'You disgust me!' the next. Stupid bitch! Why do I even try? She's probably had half the male population on campus, and a third of the professors. What do I want with that pootang? Not a DAMN thing, that's what! I can have any piece of ass I want. I don't need all up in her snatch!" It was almost comical when his voice rose three octaves to mimic a chick's. Almost.

It took me a second to register what he was talking about, but then it clicked: he and Bella must have had a fight. Then I realized that he was talking about BELLA.

Whoa! Is he really talking about my Bella like that? This shit's fucked up!

I went from self-preservation mode to I'm-gonna-fuck-this-fucktard-up! I didn't care who this guy was. No one talked about Bella that way. I jumped in front of him, my chest pressed against his, "Hey! Watch your fucking mouth, asshole! Who the hell do you think you are talking about her like that? I don't give a rat's ass what she may or may not have done, but don't you ever talk about her that way again! You don't deserve someone like her." He backed away from me and resumed pacing and I continued ranting, "I'll never understand what she sees in you. You need to get your shit together, McCarty, before Bella wakes up and kicks your sorry ass to the curb!"

He stopped his pacing in mid stride.

"Wait. What? What did you just say to me?"

"I said you need to get your shit together before the best thing that ever happened to you up and walks away."

"Not that part, numb nuts. The part about Bella."

"That was the part about Bella, dumb ass."

"I'm so confused."

"I'm not surprised, McCarty. You're easily confused." Okay, so I was pushing my luck, but I couldn't believe that he'd said those things about her!

"Easy, Eddiekins," he warned.

"Whatever. Just watch what you say about Bella, okay? She doesn't deserve your shit,"

"You think I was talking about BELLA?"

"Who else would you have been talking about?" Now I was confused!

"Uh, Rose!" He laughed like it was some big joke he was getting away with, and that just pissed me off even more. I didn't care who this asshole was, I was gonna kill him.

"So you're doing Rose behind Bella's back? You're one sick mother, Em!" I lunged at him but he stepped out of the way and I slid across the locker room floor.

"EDWARD! What the fuck? You think I'm with Bella?"

"Don't try to act like you aren't together. I've seen you two. I'm not blind!"

"I am NOT doing Bella! Dude! She's my sister! That's just fucked up!"

I sat there panting on the floor, looking up at him like he had three heads.

"You're not dating Bella?"

"No, man. I just told you she's my baby sister. Blech! That's just nasty." His entire body shivered in disgust.

"But I thought..."

"I was talking about Rose. She won't give me the time of day! One minute she's hot, the next she's not. I'm so over her games. A guy can only walk away so many times with blue balls before he can't walk anymore. That's it. I'm done."

He continued to rant as I sat there staring at his feet. I blocked out what he was saying. All I could hear was him saying "she's my baby sister" on repeat.

Then it hit me: She wasn't dating my arch nemesis! Bella Swan was Emmett McCarty's sister? Oh, thank you, GOD!

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musey... You know the routine. If I could quote every cheesy Jerry Maguire quote here and NOT lose readers, I would. XOXO
> 
> All my love to the "Golden Girls"- Barburella, Megsly, LauraLoo, and FanGirl78. Thanks isn't enough. You suffer through my docs before they're fit for public viewing. And yet, you still love me. MWAH!
> 
> A new name to add to the list of "thanks," but one of my oldest friends: KatBlack24. She talked me off the ledge with this one and gave Emmett his voice in the end. Thanks, Kat, for being my inner dude and my Chosen.
> 
> Lastly, I have no idea if they have movie nights on the Green at UF. If they don't then they should. That would rock.


	6. When Life Gives You Lemons...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super duper thanks to the Grammar Guru: TwilightMundi. I don't even want to know how many mistakes are in here. I just know you deserve some form of pleasure for each one you find. Thank you for making this less offensive. I love you.
> 
> Thank you for the amazing response to the last chapter. Some of you are too smart for my own good. While some of you are even more sadistic that I am! Good thing for GB that YOU aren't writing this! Ha! Ha!
> 
> Things are changing for Golden Boy. His world was just turned upside down. Be patient with him. He may just surprise you.

When last we saw GB:

He continued to rant as I sat there staring at his feet. I blocked out what he was saying. All I could hear was him saying "she's my baby sister" on repeat.

Then it hit me: She wasn't dating my arch nemesis! Bella Swan was Emmett McCarty's sister? Oh, thank you, GOD!

Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!

8==D

FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!

I lay in bed thinking about how four little words had changed my entire outlook on life. Just hours earlier Emmett told me that Bella, who I'd previously thought he was doing the dirty with, was his sister. His little sister. While initially I was relieved to hear that he wasn't stuffing his sausage into her canolli, the reality of the situation came crashing down around me: Bella Swan was Emmett McCarty's baby sister. Emmett's. AKA, the bane of my existence.

No way in hell he's ever gonna let you anywhere near that sweet snatch.

Damn, Shat. Don't ever refer to her "snatch" again. I don't give a fuck how sweet it is.

You know, Golden Boy, you're just as fucked now as you were when you thought they were playing "hide the pepperoni." Only now there's more of a chance Em will kill you if you go anywhere near his BABY SISTER! Bahahahahaha!

The ass in my head continued to laugh like a hyena.

That's it, Shit-ner, keep right on laughing, 'cause I'm going to look into anti-psychosis meds ASAP. Then we'll see who has the last laugh.

Threaten me all you want, but you know I'm right. You thought you didn't have a chance with her before? Now you have a better chance of winning Miss America than you do of getting in Miss Bella's ruffled panties.

Thanks for the vote of confidence, bud. Wait, how do you know she has ruffled panties? Why don't I know this shit? And don't expect a "thank you" when I make my acceptance speech in my sash and tiara.

Like they'd let a dog like you in the competition. Humph! Besides your balls aren't big enough to be considered a pair of saggy tits, even if you think they are.

Bite me, Shatner.

We're sorry, but the party you are trying to reach is no longer available. Please try again later when you're less of a fucktard. Beeeeep.

Even the voice in my head wanted nothing to do with me. I rolled over with a groan, only to be answered by a groan of a different kind from my roommate. It sounded like his latest attempt at the World Record was in full effect and it was "Game on!" I wasn't sticking around for the "results."

8==D

I decided I needed to clear my head of all the voices - well, one voice actually. The best way to do that was a long, hard run. That or a long hard fuck, but the chances of that were slim to none, so I settled for the next best thing. I threw on some basketball shorts and my newest shirt that had the Delts' Greek letters emblazoned across the chest. After pulling on my running shoes and grabbing my iPhone and ear buds, I sprinted down the stairs of the frat house and out onto the street.

The song filling my ears helped me set a moderate pace as I felt my feet pound against the pavement to the beat. I could feel the tension ebbing from my body as the street flowed under me. I needed a plan. A fucking ingenious plan. I was smart enough to figure this shit out; I just needed to think about it rationally and not in terms of the shortest route to getting laid. If that required me stuffing my jockey shorts with ice to numb my dick into submission, then so be it. There was a slight risk of frostbite, but Bella Swan was worth it.

I waited for a smart ass remark from the Shat to echo in my head, but none came. There was only one voice in my head and that was my own.

Huh, looks like I found something to shut the prick up. Now if I could just find a way to keep running the rest of my life, then I'd be rid of him forever.

The song shifted, and the pace of the next one forced me to push harder. I could feel my heart pumping furiously, forcing blood and oxygen to my brain. When the beat of the next song brought me back down I was flying high on endorphins and ready to figure some shit out. This wasn't going to be easy. My life was on the line. At the very least my dick was. I wasn't clear on a lot of things, but I was positive that Emmett McCarty would have no problem castrating me to keep me away from his sister. I still wasn't sure how they were related. Maybe that was an important part of the puzzle. I started a mental list of what I did and didn't know about Bella. It quickly became obvious that the "Didn't Know" list was much longer than the "Did Know." It was clear that I had my work cut out for me.

This much I knew: I liked Bella, a fucking lot. Bella was tied by DNA or marriage to Emmett. Bella seemed to have somewhat of an interest in me. I liked Bella enough to risk bodily harm to find out just how much she was interested-or not interested-in me.

Yeah, not a lot to go on.

What I need is an ally. Someone who would either knowingly or unknowingly help me get "in" with Bella, and keep Emmett from killing me in the meantime.

I thought about the people I knew who could possibly help me survive this potentially fatal endeavor. Yes, I knew big words; I didn't get to UF on football alone, and my vocabulary did consist of more than the "fuck" and "shit" I was well known for dropping. But this just illustrated my main problem; no one took me seriously, but who could blame them? All I had ever been was the Golden Ticket, The Midas Touch, the Really Great Lay; no matter what you called me I was no more than a prize. Between that and my sudden inability to do a damn thing right without either fucking it up or looking like an asstard, I was certain this whole thing was doomed to blow up in my face before it even got started. And with explosions there are usually casualties. In this case it would be me in the body bag. Note to self: call home and ask Mom to bury me with my football signed by Dan Marino and my high school jersey.

Who could I get to help me?

I paged through my mental Rolodex of people who might be willing to donate some time to the "Get Edward Laid" cause.

I can't think about her that way. I want more than that from her. What exactly, I'm just not sure. Who would be on my side? It needs to be someone who I can trust, someone who won't run and tell McCarty what I'm doing the second I walk away. That knocks Alice out. She can't keep her big fucking trap shut about anything. I can just see her blabbing to Jasper and them both vomiting the fact that I'm interested in Emmett's baby sister. Ew. I gotta stop thinking as her as that, too, or I'll never get close to her. That takes Jazz out of the running, too.

I thought about the other handful of mutual friends we had. There weren't that many. I had become a social pariah since coming to UF. She did know that Malory chick who was in our Music class, but I worried that Malory would just see it as me coming on to her. She'd already offered certain favors of the sexual nature, and believe me when I say that is not a cooch I would ever want to be shoving Little Eddie in. Severely hazardous working conditions, if you know what I mean. Besides, there was only one female whose cooch I wanted to be intimately acquainted with, not that her mountain of a brother needed to know that fact. Not yet at least. That's when it hit me...

Emmett! He was my biggest asset! Sure he was also my biggest obstacle, but I could use his obscene size as an advantage. You know what they say: the bigger they are, the harder they fall. And who had the big lug fallen for like a ton of bricks? Rosalie Hale. She was his Achilles' heel, his soft spot, so to speak. It just so happened that she wanted nothing to do with him. Fortunately for me, she seemed to have taken a bit of a shine to me. Ironic that the object of my nemesis' desires would find him repulsive and find me endearing. Who would have guessed that the fucker had a heart, but judging from the show he put on in the locker room I'd say that not only did he have one, but his poor wittle heart was wounded. It appeared that the fastest way to Emmett McCarty's heart wasn't his stomach; nope, it was his ego. By refusing his advances she had cemented her place in his "Must Have NOW" caveman cave. But how could this information work for me?

Pfft! The guy had practically begged me to help him in the locker room yesterday! All I have to do is play my cards right and not only will I have an ally, but I might just come out of this alive and with my twig and berries still attached to my body. That was the preferred outcome. That and ending up with Bella.

By the time I made my way back to the Delts' house, I had what I thought was a foolproof plan. Emmett wanted Rose, and he wanted- no, needed- my help to get her. So I'd help him. That's what friends do, right? They help each other.

But you forgot one little important point, Golden Boy.

Fuck my life, The Shat was back. There must have been something to the theory that running was the equivalent of Shat kryptonite. Note to self: run more. Lots more.

And just what point am I missing, oh wise one?

Just the minor detail that you and Emmett McCarty are anything but friends.

Oh, but we will be. This is promise you.

Promises, promises. I'll believe that when I see it. I won't hold my breath, though.

Oh, but I wish you would! Go play with yourself, Shat. I've got work to do.

8==D

I finished up my run and went to shower. Now that I had a plan I was anxious to put it into action. That would require me getting all my ducks in a row. The first little ducky that needed to get in line was Emmett. And I knew just how to get him there. I grabbed a towel, sniffing it to make sure it was relatively clean, and the shit I needed to shower. Thankfully the bathroom was free, and I got down to business. The warm spray of the water felt amazing as it pounded against my skin, washing the run from my body.

I reached for the shampoo and quickly washed the sweat from my hair. The Best Fucking Plan Ever, AKA The Plan, played in my head as I rinsed. I needed to get things moving as soon as possible in order to take full advantage of the situation. Squeezing the soap into my hand, I worked it into a lather and over my skin as I considered how to set everything into motion. Mindlessly I massaged my sore muscles, the soap making everything slick. By some stroke of misfortune (or fortune, depending on how you looked at it) an image of Bella in her soda soaked t-shirt flashed in my mind when my hand cupped around my balls. I felt the familiar tension begin to grow and decided to go with it. It had been at least a week since I'd done this, and I really needed the release. I palmed my growing erection and gently stroked the length. Bracing my weight against the shower wall, I began to pump harder. Images both imagined and real flashed across the backs of my eyelids, spurring me on.

Bella lying on her back in the grass on the Green, the sun causing her skin to perspire and soak her thin cotton shirt. Noticing that she'd neglected to wear a bra that day so the slightly darker skin of her nipples shone through like beacons calling to me. I reached out and grazed just the tips of my fingers over the rosy skin and it instantly pebbled under my touch. The sweetest moan whispered from her parted lips as her dark eyes fluttered closed. I pinched each nipple gently at first to gauge her reaction. Her cries of pleasure encouraged me to do it again, but harder. She gasped and her eyes shot open. I bent my head over her chest to soothe the shock with the flat of my tongue. My mouth paid both mounds ample attention, making the material transparent. Bella's hands threaded into my hair, massaging and inspiring me. The feel of her against my tongue was delightful, but the weight of her in my hand was heavenly. I kneaded the soft flesh of her tits as she moaned for more. Our lips met and our breath mixed together as we panted in our arousal. When I felt her hips rise to meet mine and the heat of her through her thin shorts seared my thigh, I thought I'd come right then. But dream Bella reached between us and dove into the elastic waist of my shorts, grabbing hold of my dick and aggressively stroking me. Intense warmth shot through me just as I felt the tightening in my groin; the tell tale sign of one of the best fucking orgasms I had ever had. Both dream Edward and real Edward moaned at the promise of release.

I cried out in surprise as the once warm water now rained down in ice cold sheets. My girlie squeak echoed off the walls as I fumbled to shut the water off. Defeated, I looked down at my deflated erection and whimpered. Cockblocked by the fucking plumbing! Had the entire campus gotten the memo that I wasn't getting any these days? Apparently a sigh and groan I toweled off and gathered my things, wrapping the towel around my hips. I figured I might as well get The Plan rolling so I could maybe break the curse I seemed to be under.

Watch out, McCarty. I'm coming for you.

At least you're coming for someone.Shat snickered.

Bite me, fucker.

8==D

"It's about time, Eddiekins. I was beginning to think we needed to send the Coast Guard in after you!" I jumped and spun around to see Emmett leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door.

"Damn, Emmett, you scared me. Sorry, man, have you been waiting long? You could've just knocked and I would have hurried up."

"No, man, we're cool. I was just yanking your chain." He chuckled, but the word "yanking" made me recall what I'd just done in the shower while picturing his sister. I think my balls tried to crawl back up into my body. I cleared my throat and tried to put The Plan into action.

"Oh, okay then. Hey, Em?"

"Yeah?"

"I was thinking about your 'little problem,'" I lowered my voice to be sure none of the brothers overheard me, "and I was wondering if you might want to go for breakfast somewhere and discuss your options."

"You offering to improve my love life, Dr. Ruth? Sorry, but I don't think so. I mean, you're pretty and all, lover boy, but I'm more of a tits and kitty kinda guy. Although I have been called an ass man before, too. But the ass has to come with a stellar pair of tits. Thanks though, Eddiekins. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."

He thought I was offering to "DO" him? What the fuck?

"No, man! You completely misunderstood me! I wan't offering. Believe me! I was merely suggesting that I could help you with Rose. That's it! I don't have that kind of secret!" I shuddered at the suggestion of Emmett and me together, together.

He'd rip you in two, Golden Boy.

UGH! Fuck off, Shat. If anyone's getting it in the ass, it's you!

I'm not the one who just propositioned a football player in the hall while wearing nothing but a towel and a smile. I wouldn't be dropping the soap in the locker room anytime soon, GB.

I ignored the non-advice he was spewing and focused on getting out of the hall and into clothes. Preferably several layers.

"What do you say, Em? Breakfast at the IHOP in twenty?"

"Make it fifteen and you're paying."

"Sure, sure. Okay, give me fifteen. I'll meet you downstairs."

"Cool. Oh, and Eddiekins?"

"Huh?"

"Just so you know, I don't put out on the first date."

"Fuck you, McCarty."

"I knew you wanted your junk all up in my trunk, punk." I'd turned to head back to my room, but Emmett's reflexes were pretty damn fast for a big dude. He grabbed my towel, and snapped me on the ass with a loud crack before I realized what happened.

"Dammit, Emmett! That shit hurts!" He chuckled as I yelled and ran to my room butt ass naked, rubbing the spot that was sure to be red. Thankfully Embry wasn't still romancing his palm, so I got dressed quickly in some cargo shorts and the first t-shirt I grabbed out of my drawer. I ran my hands through my hair a few times, not really caring what it looked like and stepped into my flip flops. With my wallet, keys, and shades in hand I headed down to meet the asstard who stood between Bella and my every fantasy.

We climbed into my ride and the five minute drive to the IHOP was relatively quiet. Apart from the occasional comment about my fuck awesome car, there wasn't much exchanged between the two of us. It wasn't until after we were seated and pouring over the menu like it was Chaucer or some equally boring shit that Emmett decided to speak.

"So, you wanted to talk to me about something?" He never looked up from his menu.

"Uh, yeah, I did. Rose, specifically, and helping you out where she's concerned."

"What makes you think I need your help with women, Eddiekins? I bet you ten to one I've seen more action than you have since the start of the semester."

"Not women, McCarty. Rose. And it's a fact. Don't forget, I was in that locker room when you had that little meltdown."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me. It was a moment of weakness on my part. I was at my breaking point. But what makes you think you can help me with Rose? It's not as if you two are buddy-buddy. Right?" The last word came off more as a warning than a question. I'm not ashamed to admit I may have pissed in my pants a little bit. The fucker had a look on his face that could have killed me.

"Well, obviously not in the Biblical sense. However, she has taken somewhat of an interest in my well being. That's more than could be said for how she feels about you." I pointed at him with my fork, the syrup dripping from the bite of pancake speared at the end.

"Watch it, Cullen," he growled. "I can change my mind about how I feel about you very easily. And not in a good way."

"Hey," I tried to soothe the beast that sat grumbling across from me. "I'm not pushing buttons, big guy; I'm just stating the obvious. You said yourself that Rose wants nothing to do with you. I'm here offering you a possible in with her. I can't offer any guarantees, but I can do what I can and see where things go. That's if you're still looking for help."

"I'll tell you again that I don't need anyone's help, Eddiekins, but if you want to put in a good word for me with Rosie then I won't stop you," he said somewhat relenting.

"Okay then, maybe I'll do just that."

"What do you have going on in that pretty little head of yours, Eddie? There's something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"Who, me? Nope, I'm an open book, Em." I sat back in my chair and spread my arms wide to make my point. "Ask me anything you want. Anything at all. I've got nothing to hide."

"Why are you such an eager beaver to help me? I haven't exactly been the nicest person when it comes to you." Emmett's eyes narrowed in suspicion. I knew I had to convince him that I was doing this out of the goodness of my heart and no other reason.

"I just think we got off on the wrong foot, is all. Yeah, I can be a prick, but I'm not sure what I did to set you off to begin with. We just need a new start, common ground. Now that we're frat brothers I think we should try again. Consider this a peace offering."

Emmett sat back and eyed me, considering my offer for what felt like forever. Finally he leaned in, extending his hand. "Peace be with you," he snorted. "And also with you, brother," I accepted his hand in the now familiar gesture of the Delts, knowing smirks plastered on both our faces.

"How about you pay up and let's get outta here. I've got shit to do today." I agreed with a nod and waved over the waitress to settle the bill. Phase one of The Plan was complete. Now to move to phase two. This next phase would involve a little more finesse. We were dealing with a delicate flower and the most important component of The Plan.

I dropped Emmett off at the house and pointed my ride toward Sorority Row across campus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the Musey, Tellingmelies: Thanks for the Musey vibes! I hope you had a fun weekend. My life was cold and hollow without you. I'm so glad you're home where you belong.
> 
> Baburella: I bow before you. Without you there wouldn't be any citrus in this chapter. Thanks for holding my hand and making me giggle. I'll buy you a "Thank you" martini when I see you in NYC in two weeks!
> 
> Megsly: Your comments always have me rolling on the floor. Emmett says that he agrees with you, your tits are stelar! We BOTH love you, Cupcake!
> 
> LauraLoo: Thanks for being the pre-beta for GB and making TM's job a little lighter. Your comments and feedback make writing this guy so much fun! I love all you ladies to the moon and back!


	7. Expect the Best, Plan for the Worst, and Prepare to Screw it Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't anything related to Twilight. I'm just having a hell of a lot of fun turning Edward into a pansy.

"How much farther?"

"What are you, like, four?" I asked the giant baby in my back seat. How the fuck Emmett had squashed himself into the back of my sports car was still a mystery. All I knew was that the guy had the attention span of an African sand gnat, and could whine better than a toddler.

"We're almost there, Em. About ten more minutes." Well, at least Jasper had more patience with the brat in the back seat than I did. I'd spent the last five minutes hoping the guy didn't get car sick easily. Granted, it was only a seventeen minute drive from campus to Devil's Millhopper National Park, but I didn't want to risk having to mop puke out of my most prized possession.

I had a plan. The Plan. It was a fool-proof, win/win plan that was going to get me in Emmett McCarty's good graces and closer to Bella Swan. The first I really didn't care two fucks about, but if it meant that I might be able to spend more time in close proximity to Bella, then I was willing to do whatever it took. That's how it came to be on a clear, fall Saturday morning that Emmett, Jasper, and I were in my car speeding toward the national park. Alice, Bella, and Rosalie were riding with Angela and following us.

"Why are we going to look at a giant hole in the ground, anyway?" the large, overfed infant in the backseat cried.

"It's a sink hole, Emmett," Jasper explained, "not to mention it's created a miniature rain forest. Don't you want to see that?"

"Yeah, sure. Dying to. Can't imagine how I've gone the last twenty years of my life without witnessing the majesty of a hole in the ground," Emmett deadpanned.

"Shut it, man. You're just pissy because Rose didn't take you up on your offer to ride with us," I scoffed at him. "Can't say I blame her, though. Who could resist such an eloquent invitation as 'Hey, babe? Why don't you ride with us? If you're real nice I may just let you give me head in the backseat of Golden Boy's hot sex machine.'"

"Yeah, Em, that was pretty pathetic," Jasper backed me up. As little as I knew Jasper, he was growing on me. He told it like it was. You had to admire that in a guy.

"Hey, we all know she would have ended up with her face in my crotch; I was merely letting her know that I was perfectly okay with that development. Don't be a player hater."

"Wow, cocky much, Em?" I asked as I glanced up at the rear view mirror. I could unfortunately see Em rearranging himself and the view made me throw up a little in my mouth. I grabbed the now somewhat warm cup of Starbucks coffee that we'd stopped for before heading over to collect the girls. I didn't normally let food and drinks in my car, but we had wanted to get an early start and there was no way in Hell I was spending any time with McCarty without my morning coffee. I did threaten to castrate them if they so much as spilled a drop of the warm, delicious elixir on my leather interior.

"We all know exactly how cocky I am, Eddiekins. Now, if we could just get Rosie in the know." His eyebrows did a weird dance on his forehead. They looked like two caterpillars doing some sort of mating ritual. It was fucking creepy.

"I thought we discussed this, Em. You gotta play it cool, man." I shook my head as I watched the douche in my backseat. "Don't ignore her, but stop trying so damn hard. The less you push the more interested she'll become."

"How the hell is she supposed to know I want in her shorts if I don't make my intentions known?"

"Well, I thought that's what you've been doing all along, Em. How's that workin' out for ya?" He glared at my cheap shot at him, but let it pass. Lately, it was as if an unspoken truce had been called between us. Other than the occasional wrestling match on the lawn or harmless prank, he'd pretty much morphed into this half decent guy. I hated that I almost liked him. He could be such a prick.

"Not so much," he admitted.

"Exactly, so you think it might be time for a new game plan?"

"Yeah, yeah. I already agreed to this shit. Why are we beating this to death?"

"You were the one who went and fucked things up by putting your foot in your mouth. She'd agreed to ride with us before you offered to let her suck your dick like it was a privilege or some shit."

"Fuck you, Eddiekins. You know any chick would be honored to bring me to a happy ending."

"Apparently not Rose. She's under the assumption that she'll be just fine living out the remainder of her days having never had that privilege."

"But you're gonna change her mind, right?" It wasn't a question, really. More like a threat. I stared back at him in the rear view mirror. His glare was every bit as intimidating as he intended it to be.

"I'm trying, dude. Just stick to the plan, okay? It will make both our lives a lot easier," I pleaded with him.

"Whatever. Are we there yet?" I rolled my eyes at his question. This guy had a thicker skull than I'd imagined.

It hadn't been easy to get Rose to agree to attend this little outing, much less ride with us. She wasn't really the outdoorsy type, preferring air conditioning to muggy, sticky heat and perfume to insect repellent. But eventually I convinced her to go with us to explore the sinkhole not far from campus. I may or may not have had to bribe her with some spa package or some other girly shit, and assure her that Emmett wouldn't grab her ass or tits. I wasn't sure how I was gonna make good on the last part of that promise, short of super gluing his hands in his pockets, but I'd promised anyway. So when Em opened his big mouth and pissed off Rose before we'd even left, I was really worried that The Plan might not be as fool-proof as I had first thought.

We pulled into the parking lot at the park and got out as the girls parked next to us. Emmett wrestled his way out of the backseat, cussing and swearing the whole time. Finally, he flopped out onto the dirt of the lot. He stood up and stretched like a cat waking up from a nap; you'd have thought he'd spent hours back there rather than the few minutes it actually took.

"Jazz's ass is sitting back there on the way back. I'm too big to stuff in such a tiny space." He looked in Rose's direction as he spoke, earning him an eye roll and a mumbled "please" from her. I probably should have tried to smooth things over with those two, but that was when I noticed Bella's shapely, bare legs stepping out of the car. I followed their line from the soles of her tennis shoes up along her calves and thighs to the short, tan shorts that fit her ass perfectly, showing off the round curves of her hips. It was a little cool that morning and she wore a long sleeve shirt that clung to her body. I couldn't help but think about how the light pink color of the shirt complemented her skin. Her hair was up in a ponytail, exposing the long curve of her neck. I couldn't pry my eyes from her. I was forced to stop starting when she noticed me ogling her and waved in the direction of my car. I glanced around to see who she was waving at and assumed it was all three of us. Still, I acknowledged her with a nod.

Rose and I walked over to the map of the park. It clearly marked a large crater with a boardwalk that led to the bottom of the pit through a series of stairs and paths. Then there was a half-mile path that circled the mouth of the hole. A web of trails and paths branched off the main trail, winding and looping back to the sink hole.

"So, you still up to this, Rose?" I was referring to more than the hike and she knew it.

"You know, he wouldn't be half bad if he kept his big mouth shut," she replied, but didn't really answer my question.

"Maybe he just needs the love of a good woman to show him the light. That or a good flogging."

"And you think I'm that woman? Are you well acquainted with the definition of the word? I'm not sure Webster would choose my picture to illustrate the meaning of the word 'good,' Eddie. I think you have me confused with someone else."

"Nah, I think you're the right woman for the job, Rose. You just have to be tough. Besides, I hear he likes it rough." I winked at the leggy blond standing at my side.

"Well, I could definitely handle the flogging bit-"

"Whoa! Who's getting flogged? And why wasn't I invited," Emmett barked from behind us.

We grabbed a few maps and turned to see the group had walked over to where we stood.

"No one's getting flogged- yet, but keep it up and I'm sure I'll be dying to beat the shit out of you before lunchtime," Rose threatened.

"Oh, baby, you know I like a good beating. Make sure it's hard and fast." Emmett's eyebrows moved up and down at a disturbing, creeper worthy pace.

"I think you're the one that needs to be concerned with whether it's hard or not, McSquishy."

I moaned and walked off towards the rest of the group, "Let's go Romeo and Juliet, we have a sink hole to explore."

"Oh, I wanna explore a hole, but I'll be the one 'sinking.'"

"You're a pig, McCarty, and the only hole you'll be exploring is the one you make your fist into when you jack off." Rose stopped and spun around, poking Em in the chest as she blew up at him.

"I'll tell you this much, beautiful," Emmett lowered his voice a bit and got all up in Rose's personal space. "It's your name I cry out when I jack off. How about you quit frontin' and admit that you scream mine when you jill off?"

"First of all, what the fuck is 'Jill off'? Secondly, what is this, the nineties? 'Frontin'?' Really, numb nuts? I'm all kinds of secondhand embarrassed for you right now."

"Aw, you love me, Rosie! Just say it. You'll feel so much better after you do, and jilling off? That's what you call it when a strong, confident woman takes control and gives herself a little attention."

"Ugh! Again, You. Are. A. Pig. Keep dreaming, 'cause you and me are never gonna happen," she poked him again. "Let's get this shitastic day over with already!" Rose stormed off to where the girls stood. A guy stood amongst them in a State Parks uniform, and I felt a rush of jealousy that a stranger was able to be close to Bella and I couldn't. I watched as the girls fawned over the tool in puke green khakis and polyester short sleeved shirt in the same unappetizing color covered in government issued patches. He looked like an overgrown Boy Scout who'd been force-fed growth hormones. And the girls were eating up whatever he was saying to them; they stood in rapt attention as he gestured and pontificated.

What the fuck was so appealing about this turd?

He's not you, GB, that's why the ladies love him!

Dammit, Shat! One day? Could you not stay the hell away for one day?

Nope, I knew you'd miss me. Besides, who would you talk to if I weren't around to keep you company?

I decided to just ignore the voice and pay attention to the issue at hand: Ranger Spanks-a-lot.

Apparently the other two guys felt the same way. I looked to either side of me to see Em and Jazz mirroring my stance with their arms crossed over their chests and scowling at the picture in front of us.

"We gonna just let this fucker waltz in and steal our girls? He's standing entirely too close to my sister and my woman," Emmett growled.

"I for one know that Alice only has eyes for me, but I wanna rip that sad excuse for a man to shreds for some unidentifiable reason. I say we do it just to be on the safe side. There's got to be plenty of places to hide a body around here..." Jazz looked around as if he was actually looking for a good place to dig a shallow grave.

As if she heard us, Alice looked over at us and back at where we were scowling. Then she waved us over and called, "Hey, guys! Come meet Ben, he's a ranger here."

The three of us stalked towards them, only because we knew that in order to knock the guy unconscious we needed to be closer. We mumbled orders back and forth about who was to do what in the course of the killing and dismemberment as we crossed the short distance to where the cozy little group stood. By the time we reached them we had settled into a deadly calm. Ranger Ben would have never seen it coming.

"Guys, this is Ben Chaney. He's a ranger here at the park, and Angela's boyfriend," Alice explained carefully. Instantly the plan changed, the mood shifted, and we were all shaking hands. The guy code had been reestablished, and all was right with the universe. The tool, yeah- he was still a tool (just not a girl stealing tool)- was deemed a non-threat and allowed to live.

After introductions were made, Ben told us a little about the sinkhole. He explained that it was a bowl-shaped cavity that was 120 feet deep with a miniature rain forest at the bottom due to the small streams and waterfalls that flowed through it. "A significant geological formation, Devil's Millhopper is a National Natural Landmark that has been visited by the curious since the early 1880's. Researchers have learned a great deal about Florida's natural history by studying fossil shark teeth, marine shells and the fossilized remains of extinct land animals found in the sink," Ranger Tool, er- Ben explained as we walked to the entrance to the main path. He sounded like a tourist brochure.

"Ang tells me that you guys packed a picnic lunch? Maybe I'll join you when you decide to take a brake." Angela promised to text him when we were ready to eat. Before he went back to do ranger-y things he passed on a bit more advice, "Don't forget to look for the rope bridges, there're three of them on the trails. They're really cool. Oh, and check out the displays right over there. The state just updated them, and they're all interactive now!" Yeah, this guy never had a fucking chance with our girls. I had a hard time remembering why we were worried in the first place.

8==D

We walked as a group around the main path that circled the mouth of the crater, and made our way to the stairs that led to the bottom. The way was heavily shaded by the thick canopy of trees that loomed overhead. Sunlight dappled the pine steps and railings. Somehow Lady Luck hadn't received the memo that she and I still hadn't kissed and made up, 'cause I ended up following Bella down into the sink. Step by step I watched her make way down, her juicy hips swaying with each stair. I was hypnotized. Mesmerized. Bella-ized. Okay, that was corny, but the blood that was normally regulated to oxygenating my brain had been diverted to other more essential body parts at that time. Namely my dick.

If ever there was an ass that deserved the letters J-U-I-C-Y sprawled across it, this was it!

"Ello, beh-be! Oh, la la!"

What the fuck, Shat? When did you acquire a French accent? And why do you sound like Pepe le Pew?

I am not zthis Shat ju speak of, I am ze voice of love, and who bet-ter to voice jour heart zthan ze Pepe, no?

Wait, who said anything about LOVE? Seriously! There's more than one imaginary voice in my head? Isn't one enough? Was the Shat reproducing up in there?

I started to mentally freak out a little worrying that Shat was gettin' busy in my brain and creating an entire army of imaginary voices bent on taking over the grey matter in my skull. It wasn't a pretty picture. I tripped and slid down two stairs, almost slamming into Bella before catching myself by gripping the hand railings. This put my face eye to cheek with her glorious ass.

I could die a happy man right now.

The entire group paused and looked back to see what the commotion was about. I straightened up and gave a shrug. "Carry on. Nothing to see here, people," I joked and cleared my throat.

"You okay, Edward?" the object of my deepest fantasies asked sweetly.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just slipped on a little water, I think." I stood up and brushed off the seat of my shorts.

Could I be any more lame?

"Be careful, I'd hate to have to carry you out of this hole over my shoulder. Not to mention that Coach would kill us all for bringing his Golden Boy back injured." She winked at me before she turned back around and continued down the stairs.

Come back mah leettle pi-geon! I beg of ju, carry meh away!

The image of her throwing me over her shoulder and carrying me anywhere was too much. I felt the rush of blood from all my other extremities to join the blood from my brain. If I kept this up, the only part of me that would be conscious would be my pecker.

Uh, mah little flower pot, ju make-a ze blood run to ze very tip of mah love sword!

I flatly refused to talk to Pepe or acknowledge him in any way. If he wanted to be a chatty Kathy, then that was his dammed business, but I wasn't about to encourage him. Besides, The Shat was more than I could deal with as it was. Maybe Pepe would go away.

Please, please go away!

We continued down to the bottom, Bella's bottom leading me down, down, down into the dark recesses of my twisted mind. I tried to not think about the new voice, Pepe, and that he seemed to think I was in love. I watched as she laughed and joked with Angela as they walked with their arms around each other's waists. I couldn't help but wish it was my arm holding her close to my side.

Uh, muah, muah, muah! It was love, love, love at sight first! Was et not?

I rolled my eyes at the smelly little French dude in my head. Okay, so maybe I really did like this girl. A lot. Hell, I was willing to risk life and limb just for the chance to get close to her.

The dark shade of the tree canopy thinned out and gave way to the bright Florida sun. The stairs ended and the pine boards lined up to make a wide, flat boardwalk that spanned one end of the sinkhole. It was the perfect place to view the bottom. Small waterfalls trickled down the limestone sides, creating tiny streams along the base of the sink. All around us was dense, emerald vegetation. It was almost as if we'd been transported someplace else. We all spread out along the boardwalk, looking at various placards that identified trees and bushes or finding wildlife. Above us the sky was bright blue, and the sun was quickly warming the air to a typical Florida day. I was surprised when I heard Bella call me over to where she stood.

"Look! A bunny," she whispered excitedly. I followed where she was pointing and saw a small brown rabbit hiding in the undergrowth. Then I looked back at her and pure joy on her face nearly knocked me over, again. She was fucking beautiful.

Le sigh! Breathed the French sack of stink in my head. I found myself surprised that I was actually agreeing with him.

I watched her as she watched the stupid bunny. I found her way more interesting and ogle worthy. I desperately wanted to get her alone; that was the entire purpose of this trip, after all. Well, that and trying to get Rose to see Emmett as something other than the asstard he was. The second half of that plan wasn't going exactly the way I'd hoped, but maybe we could salvage the day.

"So, I think I'm gonna head up and explore some of the trails... wanna come?" My voice wasn't nearly as confident as I'd hoped it would be.

Come, dah-ling! Dis zthing es big-gher zthan we are! We must fight et no lon-gher! Muah, muah, muah!

Oh, god, please come. All around my dick, preferably. But for now just come with me.

Le gasp!

Oh, suck it, Pepe! You know you want to stuff her croissant. Annnnd, now I was talking to the French poodle dipped in stank. Nice.

"Sure, let's go! We'll be standing around here all day if we wait for these goombas to be ready to head up to the trails. Besides, Em's such a loud mouth that he'll scare off any wildlife we might have a chance to see. I say we ditch 'em and hit the trails!" She turned back to the rest of the group, "Hey, guys? Edward and I are gonna head up and try to find those rope bridges. We'll meet you all for lunch at 12:30, ok?"

"Hey! What's the hurry, little sis? The bridges aren't going anywhere. Just wait up and we'll all go together." I swore the cockblocking, wanna-be Rose fucker was trying to kill my Plan and my game. I struggled to not growl at him.

"Thanks, but no thanks, Foghorn Leghorn. I'd like to see at least a few animals today. Not counting the present company, of course. Just take your time and maybe we'll meet up on the trails. Besides, maybe you'll get to sniff some of the regional flora." She winked at her hulk of a brother, and I thought my heart would melt.

Ah, lovah boyee, love es ah man-eh splendored zthing.

I wondered where Shat was. I think I liked him more than this pansy ass. And I didn't like the Shat at all. At least he didn't have a ridiculous accent.

We climbed the stairs to the lip of the hole, and just thinking about lips and holes sent my mind straight to the gutter. I wondered what Bella's lips would feel like as they brushed against mine, or wrapped around me. I pictured my head between those thick thighs that were at eye level as she ascended before me, and all the things I could do to that part of her anatomy. Once again I tripped, only this time I was going up. Bella turned to check on me just like before.

"Man, Edward, if you had this much trouble on the field you'd be warming the bench with that hot little ass of yours. How about you pay more attention to where you're walking and less attention to my derrière?"

Ah, she speeks ze French! Le pant! Mah leetle poodle! Ju are ze corn beef to meh, and I es ze cab-bage to ju! Muah, muah, muah!

I was shocked. My mouth hung open, my eyes were as big as fucking saucers.

What the hell are saucers good for, anyway?

Focus, Edward! The girl of your dreams just caught you staring at her ass and is walking away from you while you just stand here like a zombie!

Shat was back and I never thought I'd be so happy to see him.

I shook off my mental haze and started up after her taking the steps two at a time.

STOP! Stop! Ze corn beef does not run a-way from ze cab-bage! The skanky skunk cried out to Bella even though she couldn't hear him.

At the top I sprinted to catch up with her.

"Which path do you want to try first," I asked.

"Hm, let's try the one up ahead and see where it takes us. I'm all about the spontaneity." Okay, I was already sporting a semi after what went down on the stairs, but when she started humming and talking about "head" and being spontaneous? I was rock solid. Woodmeister. Flying the sails at full mast. I thought about all the ways I'd like to sink her battleship...

Ah, dah-ling! I am ze capteen, and ju are my first-mate!

I cleared my throat to help find my voice that had apparently sunk to my balls, because all I could hear was them screaming for release. With a squeaky, pre-pubescent voice I agreed and we veered to the first right, away from the sinkhole. We walked in relative quiet, the air around us thick with the building humidity and my growing discomfort, both physical and emotional. I looked for a topic, any topic, that we could talk about that wouldn't automatically have me thinking with my dick.

Cue the crickets chirping.

Then I remembered Emmett! I could talk about Emmett without getting a hard on! Thank fuck for small favors!

"So, Bella," I started, "How are you and asstar- I mean Emmett related? Is it a step-sibling thing? You two are really close, right?"

"Yeah, we're close, and he's my biological brother. Well, half brother, actually, but I've never thought of him as such. He's always just been my big bro, know what I mean?"

"Not really, I'm an only child," I admitted.

"Oh, well, he's been there for me through everything, and it's not something we make a big deal about. He's my brother and a damn good one, at that. I can remember when we were kids; he'd be so protective of me. He walked me to every single one of my classes the first semester of my freshman year in high school. No one dared mess with me knowing that McCarty was my bodyguard."

"How is it you have different last names, then?" I chose to ignore the ominous image of Em holding the student population at bay from a young, perky Bella.

"We have the same mother. His dad was our mom's first husband, but he died when Em was really young. Mom remarried and she and Dad had me soon after. Dad's always treated Em like his own son. Em even calls him 'Dad.' So it's like, zero weirdness around our house when it comes to this stuff."

"Ah...," I reply in my usual brilliant way, "I understand. It makes perfect sense now. And you're two years apart in age?"

"Yep, but Emmett's always been big, so it felt like he was so much older than that. So you don't have any siblings?"

"Nope. Not only am I an only child but so are both of my parents. No worries about the Cullen Clan overpopulating the planet."

"Yeah, I guess not," she laughed easily at my lame joke. It dawned on me that this is the longest conversation we have ever had. Part of me (my dick) is thrilled that we are walking side by side, accidentally brushing against each other as we hike and talk in hushed tones. Another part of me (okay, no, it's my dick again) is disappointed that I owe this entire conversation to Emmett, because without him my aforementioned dick would be gobbling up all the blood that normally circulates through my body, rendering any non-sexual thought impossible. So, fuck you very much, Emmett. For nothing and for everything.

Things were really starting to heat up, and I'm referring to the temperature, not my dick for once. Bella suddenly stopped in the middle of the path and gripped the hem of her shirt.

Please let her be wearing nothing but a lacy bra under that top! PLEASE! Or nothing at all would be great too!

She pealed the top from her body, and for a moment I thought I was going to get my wish. As the pink of the shirt rose higher, a span of her creamy stomach revealed itself. The higher the shirt got the more skin was exposed. I held my breath...

Yes! Yes! Yes! I chanted in anticipation.

Oui! Oui! Oui! Le pant! Pepe was obviously excited as well.

I was so focused on ogling Bella as she pseudo stripped, that I once again wasn't watching where I was walking. I stumbled on a root that was sticking up out from the sandy path and nearly fell flat on my ass. Thankfully I regained my balance and avoided another embarrassing situation. Only to take three steps right into the biggest motherfucking spider web I have ever come across in my lifetime! It literally engulfed me and I did the only thing any mostly grown ass man would do when the woman whose pants he's trying to get into is standing five feet away: I screamed like a pussy and ran around in circles crying, "Get it off! Get it off! Fucking hell! GET IT OFF!" I was swatting at my face and arms trying to clear the creepy web off my skin, and praying that the owner of the World Biggest Fucking Spider Web hadn't been at home when I walked through the front door. That damn spider must have been the size of a Volkswagen Bug! All thoughts of the possibility of a near naked Bella were forgotten. They were replaced by the terror that I could quite possibly have an arachnid crawling around on me somewhere, looking for the most tender place to sink its fangs into my flesh and turn me into Gooward. I may or may not have overreacted a tad, but spiders are not something I deal with very fucking well.

By this time Bella had freed herself from the soft prison of her pullover and was gaping at my pathetic display. I half expected the cavalry to round the bend, swoop down and confiscate my man card, and then stamp me with a lavender "P"- for "Pussy." But none came. Instead, the entire crew came barreling down the trail yelling for Bella and I, calling out to see if we were okay. When they reached us and saw me flailing around and screeching like a banshee, they all took one look and busted out in a chorus of laughter. Their cackles could probably be heard throughout the park, but all I cared about was whether or not I had a poisonous, man-eating-eight-legged-creepy-thing on my back.

Emmett was able to get close enough to me, despite my spastic movements, to smack me on the back- hard. Really. Fucking. Hard.

"There, got 'em!" Did he think he was funny? 'Cause Drew Carey he was not. Not that Drew Carey was all that funny anymore, but you know what I was trying to say.

"Thanks, asshole," I spit out.

"Don't mention it, pussy." Emmett's smug chuckles only embarrassed me more and pissed me off. I shot them all dirty looks and took off down the trail as fast as I could. I wasn't gonna stick around and be the ass of their jokes any longer.

I was so worked up that I didn't hear Bella calling after me, pleading with me to slow down as I stomped across a rope bridge. I probably wouldn't have stopped even if I had. But I would have if I was psychic and had known what would happen next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Duh, duh, duhnnnn! Okay, don't freak the hell out. Well, maybe freak out a little, cuz I'm not sure exactly what happens next. Sometimes these characters write their own destinies. This is one of those times. Never fear! Golden Boy will live to fuck up another day, I promise.
> 
> Yeah, this took FOREVER to write. The whole Pepe le Pew thing intimidated the hell out of me. (Thanks Kat for the awesome idea that made me lose sleep at night!) Sadly, the next update will be in two weeks due to my week long trip to see my pre-readers Barburella and Fangirl78 in New York. Thanks ladies for making sure my words don't suck. Thanks also to Megsly and LauraLoo, your skittles make me wet my pants from laughing. They are seriously funnier than my chapters! One day I swear I'm gonna post those comments with the chapter, I swear it.
> 
> To my much loved and appreciated beta, TwilightMundi. No sappy, flowery words this week, my love. Only heartfelt, sincere thanks for continuing to be in my life and polishing my words. You really are loved.
> 
> Thanks for your patience and for reading, everyone! Your reviews are wonderful and I adore everyone of them. Big squishy hugs to you all.


	8. You Gotta Know When to Hold 'em

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to TwilightMundi who takes time away from her boys to fix my messes and make this fit to read. I love you. But I think you knew that.
> 
> Special thanks and hugs to three ladies: Barburella (I wouldn't write a damn word if you didn't crack your whip. Thank you, mistress.) LauraLoo and Megsly. The comments you three ladies leave make me laugh until I'm incontinent. But as awesome as that is, your friendship means the most. Thank you seems so inadequate. I love you all.
> 
> Our Golden Boy seems to have found his balls in this chapter. I did my damnedest to separate him from them, but he's obviously got a tighter hold on them than I thought. Enjoy.
> 
> Disclaimer-I don't own them, I just lease. Sure it isn't a sound investment, but who gives a flying flip. Its just so much FUN to play with them, even if I cant keep them forever.

The bridge was shaky under my feet. It rolled and vibrated as I stormed over it. I could hear the others calling out behind me through my angry haze, but I didn't give a fuck. Months of suffering humiliation after humiliation had finally come to a head, and like a festering zit I was in need of a good pop. I was done with the nice guy shit. This "roll over and play dead" crap I'd been performing ever since arriving in this Godforsaken sweat box of a state had grown old. I was done with it.

"Motherfucking, sonofabitch, cocksucking, assholes," I swore as I brushed at the back of my neck and arms. I could still feel the sticky threads of the spider web clinging to me. My tenuous hold on my sanity was slipping away quickly.

Who the fuck do they think they are, anyway? Just a bunch of stupid Florida swamp fucks, that's who! I'm Edward-fucking-Golden-Boy-Cullen for fuck's sake! They should all be bowing at my feet, begging to suck my dick like everyone else lined up has to. I'm over this shit. Who needs these backwoods shits-for-brains fucktards anyway? NOT ME!

I spun on my heals, and, walking backwards, gave the lot of them the double finger. They could all go fuck themselves for all I cared. The crew stood on the path, yelling for me to stop and wait up. I threw back my head and laughed like a man possessed. I stumbled on the uneven boards as I attempted to walk backwards while telling off the others, nearly falling flat on my ass. My hands gripped the rope railing to steady myself. The group gasped and Emmett yelled at me to watch where the fuck I was going. That's when I shakily pivoted around to look to the other side. I heard a strange, high pitched sound coming from the path in front of me. I looked down to see a huge black and white cat standing on the bridge a few feet away. It made an odd eeping noise like it was unhappy I was on its bridge.

What's a cat doing out here in the woods? I thought to myself.

That's no cat you fucktard! That's a skunk! Get us the hell out of here! NOW! The Shat squealed in my head like a little girl.

Please, it's just a skunk. If I don't bother it then it won't bothe-

Before I could finish my train of thought, the giant rat turned and lifted its furry tail. I was instantly covered in a sticky, god-awful smelling spray. It went everywhere! Who knew such a small creature could make that much stank! It was in my mouth, my nose, all over my clothes. I sputtered and spit, gagging as I tried to clear the spray from every orifice on my face. The smell was overwhelming. My stomach rebelled, retching and purging itself of the breakfast I had eaten earlier. I continued to heave uncontrollably even once the Lucky Charms had been barfed up. Mental note: Lucky Charms are not so lucky. Fucking false advertising. I wondered if I could sue General Mills for that shit. Snot was pouring out of my nose like faucet. I bent over, bracing my hands on my knees while the roller coaster in my gut slowed to a stop. Panting, I wiped the vomit and snot from my face with my hand and then onto my shorts. Somewhere I registered the chorus of appalled voices singing and groaning behind me. They were closer than before, but I as I turned to face them they all backed away, covering their faces with their hands and shirts. When I looked back to the cat-slash-skunk it was gone, leaving only its funk behind.

Bella ran to meet me on the bridge.

"Are you okay, Edward? Oh my word, you fucking reek! That skunk got you really good!" She covered her mouth and nose, trying to block the smell. I was mortified and starting to feel a nauseous again from my own stench.

"Don't come any closer, Bella! It's terrible!" I gagged.

"No, Edward, I want to help. I can handle this. Just let me help you."

"No way! This is fucking gross! I don't want you to get near me like this. Go back!"

"Edward! I can help. Please?"

"Nuh-uh! Just fucking go! Please- just go."

She reluctantly agreed to back off. I hated being a prick and telling her to go when the one thing I wanted most was to be close to her, but I didn't want her to be any part of this. I smelled worse than a locker room full of jockstraps. Kind of a mixture of week old garbage and sweaty ball sacs. This was worse than the flag pole incident, and I hadn't thought anything could be worse than that! I waited until they had walked ahead a few yards before following them. Each of them glanced back at me at some point or another. I could hear Em complaining that he had never smelled something so disgusting in his entire life. Bella reminded him of the potency of his own gas. He laughed and spouted some shit about how his ass smelled like "spring rain that had freshly fallen on a meadow of wild flowers." So not true. He offered to demonstrate this to the group, but they all protested. Apparently one smelly guy was all the group could handle at a time.

We all went back to the parking lot to head back to campus. The afternoon had been ruined by my close encounter of the smelly kind. There was no way we could continue with me rocking eau de muffette. That's French for skunk. I found it ironic that I knew what "skunk" was in French, but not in the wild. I made a mental note to Google "dangerous Floridian wildlife." First gators and mosquitoes, then spiders and skunks? I wanted to be prepared for the next close encounter of the deadly kind. Emmett's booming voice jogged me from my mental "to do" list.

"Man! Now we won't get to eat that fuck awesome lunch the girls made!" That was Emmett for ya, always worried about his stomach first, all else came afterwards. Rose, AKA Little Miss Sunshine, retorted, "Like you couldn't stand to miss a meal, Hoss?"

"I'll have you know this is the body of a lean, mean, fuck machine!" Emmett couldn't have shot himself in the foot any better then if he pulled out a gun and pulled the trigger.

No one would ride with me, except Bella, who I refused to allow to do so. The guys opted to take a cab home rather than be trapped in an enclosed space with me. Even after I reminded them that I had a convertible they refused. I so did not want to have to drive home in my car the way I stunk, but I had no other option. Ranger Dick- uh, BEN- offered the gem of advice to bathe in tomato juice when I got home. Bathe in it? Fuck! I'd need a swimming pool full of the shit to get this rankness off!

I drove back towards campus with the top down. Sadly, it didn't do anything to alleviate the smell. I sear it was visible, like a putrid, green cloud wafting behind me.

I told you that was no cat, Eddiekins. But did you listen, noooooo. "He's just a little ole skunk, Shat! He won't hurt nothin'!" The Shat mocked me in a sing-song voice.

Stupid fucker. Shut up! This is bad enough without you making it worse!

I was just trying to help, Eddiekins. You can't be angry with me for being right. You DID defy Captain's orders.

How did I do that?

I told you to run. You refused. That's blatant disregard for authority. You could be court marshaled if we were on the Enterprise.

You aren't the boss of me!

What are we, three now?

Maybe...

I pulled up to the frat house and I sat out on the porch steps and waited for the rest of the crew to get there. The others offered to stop at the store for the tomato juice so I wouldn't have to suffer that embarrassment. Bella kept arguing about how tomato juice wasn't the best option for de-funking me, but I figured if Ranger Ben-Dover had suggested it then it must be the best remedy. I mean, rangers were wilderness dudes, right? They must get sprayed by smelly things all the time. The guy was a professional. I mean if I'd been bit by a rattle snake on my ass and he told me I had to let him suck on my naked ass to pull out the venom I'd sure as hell follow his advice and tell the fucker to "pucker up." So why wouldn't I take his advice now with something as simple as a tomato bath?

It didn't take the rest of the group long to make it back. They had an entire case of cans that Emmett carried into the house. I looked in the box and realized that he had over a hundred cans of tomato soup, not juice.

"Em! What the fuck? You were supposed to get juice, not soup! What am I gonna do with a case of tomato soup? Make a gross of grilled cheese sandwiches and start a fucking deli?"

"We told him Ben said 'juice,' but boy genius over here insisted that you needed soup," Angela clarified as she and Rose walked into the house.

"I figured soup would be better since its thicker," Emmett shrugged and tried to defend his stupid mistake. "Someone wanna help with this, or are we gonna stand out here and smell skunk boy all afternoon?" That giant of a man could whine like a fucking baby when he wanted to. And I hated kids.

"Here let me help you with that, big guy," Rose purred. I did a double take, wondering what the hell took place in the short time since I'd left them at the park. The blonde vixen pressed her chest against Em, effectively giving his arm a "boobie hug." He groaned as she reached into the box and plucked a can from the top. "There. Is that better?" she asked in a husky voice and strutted into the house. Em stood there in a haze. "Where should I put this down? I don't want to break a nail or anything," she said from inside. Everyone else still stood a safe distance from my offensive odor.

I gave the beast a shove to get him through the door. "Just put it on the counter, Rose," I said. Emmett came in behind her and thumped the box roughly on the kitchen counter next to her can.

"Thanks, babe. You're very helpful," Em teased Rose.

"I can be accommodating when it suits my needs." She leaned into him, touching his arm. No matter what she said, I had a feeling that Rosalie Hale didn't do a damn thing unless she got something out of it as well.

"I bet you can, Momma. How about we head up to my room and you can show me all the ways I can fill your needs and you can accommodate mine?"

"I can tell you my deepest need right here and now, big guy." She motioned him closer with one finger. For a split second I thought they had finally given in and were going to actually make a move toward each other, both figuratively and physically. Emmett bowed his head closer to hers, and her lips moved rapidly near his ear. All I could hear were hushed whispers. I began collecting cans to haul upstairs to my bathroom with a can opener; if they were about to start talking dirty then I was going to get the hell out of there and fast. I did not need to see McCarty getting his groove on. As I walked up the stairs with arm an arm-full of tomato soup I heard Em's voice booming through the house.

"Dammit, Rosalie Hale! You can be so fucking stubborn! Why don't you just get over yourself and go out with me already?" If I had to guess I'd say that Rose's "needs" didn't exactly match up with what Emmett had in mind. She backed away from him and towards the door, calling back to him as she left.

"I'll go out with you when Edward gets that stink off him or when Hell freezes over, you pig! Whichever comes first. So if you really want some 'one on one time' with me, then I suggest you break out your loofa and start scrubbing Golden Boy's back."

"Later, Eddie," she called up the stairs to me. "Good luck with that little problem of yours. I'm sure Em will be more than helpful and willing to fulfill your needs."

"Ugh, thanks for nothing, Rose. Tell the girls that I'm sorry I fucked up the day and thanks for the soup, even though it's supposed to be juice."

"No problem, man, but again, not our fault. Em's the douche who got the soup. I'm just glad it wasn't a rattlesnake bite to your ass. I doubt I could watch McCarty sucking the venom from your cute little bum."

"Whatever, Rosalie. Later." I chuckled to myself remembering my own similar thoughts about Ben earlier. It made me a little nervous that she seemed to know me so well. I turned back up the stairs to the bathroom.

Laughing hysterically, Rose and Ang walked out of the house to head back to sorority row with the girls.

I caught a glimpse of Em piling cans on the counter.

"Don't even fucking think about it, bacon," I cut Emmett off before he could even consider helping me.

"Bacon? Who is bacon?" He asked carrying several more cans behind me.

"You are, you pig. And you won't be helping me, either."

"Whatever, pretty boy, you did promise to help me hook up with Rose. This just might be how you could do that."

"No. It is not." I flat out refused.

There was no way in hell McCarty was getting anywhere near my naked body with a loofa. Promise or no promise.

I had no idea if I needed to heat the soup or just dump it in the tub. I, being the guy I was, said "fuck it" and just went with the dumping method. Twenty minutes of soaking, about a hundred cans of Cambell's tomato soup, and one hell of a ring around the tub later, I showered off the slime and toweled off. I yelled when someone burst through the door of the bathroom without knocking.

"Dammit, Emmett! Do you ever fucking knock?"

"Jeesh, man! I was just checking to see if it worked." His nose wrinkled as he sniffed the air. The sweet smell of the soup still permeated the air. "Shit, Eddikins. It didn't work! Now you smell like a skunk that took a swim in tomato soup. I'm gonna go make a grilled cheese sandwich, want one? Man, sucks to be you."

A defeated groan ripped from my chest. I'd never agreed with Emmett McCarty more.

8==D

The next day I stood outside the Delts' house preparing to de-skunk the Viper. I had no clue how to do it, and considered using the soup on the interior. I changed my mind when I woke up still strongly smelling of skunk and soup. As if that wasn't enough, my skin now had a lovely orange "freshly spray tanned" glow about it. It was very Jersey Shore. I huffed and puffed in exasperation as I stood eying my precious vehicle. I had no clue how to clean it; even with the top down and airing out, the stink wafted from it. As I stood there staring and contemplating how much I could get for a trade-in a scooter pulled into the drive behind me.

Bella.

Just seeing her made me smile and my dick twitch. I mentally chastised the prick. It was going to be hard enough to focus around her with out Mr. Stiffy making an appearance. I couldn't help the sigh that escaped when she climbed off the scooter and removed the little helmet she had on. The girl of my dreams walk over to me and stood beside me, looking in the direction I was looking: my ruined car. After a few moments of silence she spoke.

"What are we looking at?"

"My car."

"Okay." More silence.

"What are we waiting for it to do?" she asked.

"I have no idea."

"Good lord, it still stinks."

"Um, I think that's me."

She leaned over and sniffed my shoulder. "Ugh! Yeah, you still stink, too. Didn't the tomato work?"

"Kinda. Not so much. All it really did was stain me and my tub. Now I look like a walking victim of a drive by tanning." Bella chuckled and I glanced over at her. She was dressed in blue shorts that were rolled at the waist and a Dee Gee t-shirt tied at the back, showing off all her fuck awesome curves.

"Well, you could always try out for Jersey Shore. I hear they're in need of orange-skinned actors. Can you do a convincing Jersey accent?" For a moment I thought she was serious. Then I saw the corner of her mouth turn up the tiniest bit.

"Whatevah, Swan. Did you come all the way across campus to torture me? If you did I could have saved you the trouble and woken up your asshat of a brother. We could have put you on speaker so you could enjoy my pain from the comfort of your bed."

She laughed. It was loud and real. Not a fake, put-on laugh most girls have. It was the sound of a truly happy person. It reminded me, again, of how desperate I was to hear it more. Suddenly I became very aware of how awful I must still smell and I took a few steps away from her. I made it look as though I was sizing up the status of the Viper.

"Naw, Edward! I'd want front row seats for that show." I shot her a look and she winked at me in return. The prick in my pants jerked and twitched like he was having a seizure. The prick in my head chose that moment to voice his opinion.

Uh, Eddikins? Looks like Little Eddie has a bit of a situation going on. OH! Maybe we should call him The Little Situation? Seeing as you look like you're from Jersey now.

Not now, Captain.

Or, we could call him Little Captain!

You'd like that, wouldn't you? We are NOT naming my dick after you.

Aw! Little Captain likes the idea, don't cha lil' buddy?

Are you talking to my penis now, Shat? That's just fucked up.

What? He likes it. We're friends.

No, you're not. Now both of you need to fuck off.

Well, we would if you'd get out of the way and let us bone that-

Go! NOW!

My overachieving, under used dick strained against the usually comfy basketball shorts I'd slipped on that morning. However, with all the activity going on down there, they weren't so very comfortable at the moment. I was sure Bella could see the tent I was pitching. I moved to other side of the car, using the vehicle to block the boner. I tried to will it away, but that was gonna take a fuck ton of will power. Little Captain wasn't so very little.

Bella spoke up, pulling something from the messenger bag at her hip.

"I thought the tomato might not get all the funk out, so I brought you Grandma Swan's secret skunk remedy." I watched with interest as she presented a box and a bottle.

"Baking soda and Dawn dishwashing detergent?"

"Yep. Works every time," she professed. The skeptical look on my face must have clued her in that I thought she was nuts. But who was I to really judge? I was the one with multiple voices in my head. I made a mental note to ask Mom if mental illness ran in the family.

"So what do I do with it?" I asked. "At this point I'll try just about anything short of pissing on my sports car."

"You piss on jelly fish stings, Golden Boy. If you pissed in the Viper it would just smell like an incontinent skunk took up residence in your trunk."

"Fine. What do I do?"

"Just make a paste of the baking soda and the soap, rub it on the seats and it will come right out. Then we'll sprinkle the soda on the carpets, let it sit a while, and then vacuum it up. The smell will be gone. I guarantee it. Grammy Swan guarantees it."

"It won't hurt the leather?"

"You mean any more than skunk stank? No, Edward, it won't hurt the leather. Now, shall we get started? I've got a small group meeting for my psych of personality class later."

"You don't have to stay and help. I can manage." I really, really wanted her to stay, but didn't want her to have to be subjected to the raunchiness.

"Shut it, Cullen. I'm staying. Now go get a couple buckets and sponges and a bowl to mix this stuff. I'll go around and get the hose. Chop! Chop!"

She clapped her hands at me like I was a child who needed added encouragement. And fuck if I didn't do exactly as she told me too.

"And grab some towels while you're in there," she called after me. By the time I came back out she had the radio blaring in the Viper and the hose lay on the ground next to the front tire, water trickling from the spray nozzle. She was leaning over the closed door of the car, ass up in the air, reaching for something inside. I took a moment to admire the view. Little Captain-okay, it seemed like an appropriate nickname for my dick considering how often he saluted Bella- sprung into his upright position at the sight of Bella's lady bits displayed so perfectly. He was a dick, after all. Who could blame him?

"Here you go, mistress."

"Oh! I like that! You may call me mistress the rest of the morning." She slid off the door when she heard my voice.

"Uh, the door does open, you know. This isn't the Dukes of Hazard."

"Yeah, I know. I was just picking this up. I figured you might need it. Eventually." She held a little square packet in between her first to fingers. It took a split second for it to register in my brain that it was a condom. It took me another two point five seconds to sprint the rest of the way over to her and snatch it from her. I wasn't sure where the condom had come from, but it had more than likely fallen out of the glove compartment and I never noticed it.

"Thanks," I croaked out. I was sure things couldn't get any more awkward.

"No problem, just looking out for you and Little Eddie." Annnnnd apparently I could be wrong.

"I can assure you there's nothing 'little' about my dick, Bella. Read the label, that's a magnum," I pointed out that minor detail, defending my manhood.

"Hmm, that remains to be seen." She stood there smirking at me and stealing glances at my crotch.

God, she's hot. Is she flirting with me?

It's been a long time, GB, but not that long. Get your head out of your ass and into the game!

Suddenly, the Shat was my love coach. This was turning out to be one fucker of a confusing day, and the last thing I wanted to think about was Shat. What I wanted to do was rip the packet open with my teeth while shoving my shorts down with my free hand; then roll the fucker on before bending her over the hood and fuck the smirk right off her face. I settled for awkward banter instead.

"Yeah, like I said. Thanks."

"Well, let's get busy. Throw me that bowl and a sponge. I'll show you the perfect technique." I so wanted Bella to show me the perfect technique, but I doubted that we were thinking about the same thing. My thoughts involved her mouth and Little Captain, I was sure she was referring to "wax on wax off" methods. She mixed some baking soda and soap in the bowl. Then, much to my disappointment, she opened the car door before she started rubbing the mixture onto the seat in a circular pattern. It was all very "Karate Kid-esque."

"You gonna help, Cullen, or you just gonna let a lady do all the work?"

"Whatever, Swan. I don't see any lady around here." I teased.

"Hey! That's mistress to you, and you apologize right now, or else."

"Or else what? You'll call your big oaf of a brother to beat my ass? I hate to break it to ya, missy, but I've already survived McCarty's worse. Bring it." I was feeling cocky. Being this close to Bella made me feel strong, like my old self, but better. Besides, I was only teasing her.

Bella stopped cleaning in mid stroke. She looked over the center console at me and said in a chillingly calm voice, "I don't need my brother to fight my battles for me, Edward Cullen. Ask Emmett how many nights he's spent with ice packed in sensitive areas after going a round or two with me. Now, apologize or not only will your car still smell like fucking skunk, but you will be nursing your battered junk."

"Sorry, Bella. I swear I was only kiddi-"

"Save it, Eddiekins. Just slow your roll and remember that when you're with me, you are with a lady. It'd also be in your best interest to treat me accordingly. Got it?"

"Got it."

"Apology accepted. Now stroke."

"Yes, mistress."

We worked in relative silence after that. After we finished the seats she started on the floors. I ran back in to get the wet/dry vac so we could do the carpet. Bella suggested we finish off the job by doing the outside as well. Normally I'd have it professionally done, complete with a hand wax, but if it meant I could spend more time with Bella, even a mildly pissed Bella, then I'd do whatever it took. So I put the top up and we washed the exterior. I started rinsing my side of the car as she finished soaping up the driver's side. I heard a squeal and looked over to see Bella, hair dripping wet and a spray of water across her shirt. From the look on her face she was obviously caught off guard, and from looks the pert peaks of her nipples straining against her t-shirt I guessed the water was kind of cold. She stood there frozen for all of five seconds before she sprang into action. She grabbed the bucket of soapy water on the ground next to her, a look of determination plastered on her gorgeous face.

"Oh, my god, Bella! I'm so sorry! I swear I didn't meat to spray you!"

"Surrrre you didn't, Cullen."

"I swear I didn't!"

"Well, the fact still remains that you did. Ever hear of 'an eye for an eye' Edward?" She started around the front of the car, trying to get close enough to strike.

God I love it when she growls my name.

"Uh, yeah? But isn't there something after that about forgiving seventy times seven?" I backed away as she advanced.

"Believe me, Edward, I've forgiven your sorry ass seventy-one times seven. Now, you pay. Man up and take your punishment."

"Nu-uh. I bruise easily." I maneuvered behind the car, keeping a safe distance between myself and the bucket in Bella's hands.

"Oh, I'm not going to hit you, pretty boy, just gonna get some of that stank off ya. Now hold still, you big baby!" She threw the whole bucket at me, and let me tell you the girl could aim. I was drenched, and the bucket ricocheted off the side of my head, knocking me back to the ground. I tried to aim and really spray her with the hose, but she sprang on me pinned me to the driveway.

"Oh, no you don't, Cullen! Don't even think about spraying me again!" We wrestled for control over the sprayer.

"Get off me you crazy lady!"

No! Don't get off! Ride him like a cowgirl!

Fuck off, Shat! I don't need any help from the peanut gallery!

Apparently you DO! You just told the star of all your wet dreams to remove her thighs from around your hips.

Well, I don't particularly want her mountain of a brother to come out her and see her "riding me like a cowgirl!"

You're a pussy.

You're a dick.

At lest I'm the one who DOES the fucking and not the one who always gets fucked.

Fuck off!

"Did you just tell me to 'fuck off?'" Bella gasped.

Shit! Did I say that out loud?

"Yes, you did! And now you're really gonna pay!" With superhuman strength, Bella won control of the hose and sprayed the shit out of me. By the time she was finished we were both soaking wet and laughing our asses off. We called a truce to catch our breath. She collapsed on my chest in a fit of giggles. Suddenly, I became aware that I could feel the warmth of her skin through her thin, wet cloths. I'd never been this close to Bella before. It was heaven. Her heart pounded against my chest and mine slammed against my rib cage trying to match its rhythm. Every rise and fall of her chest caused her fully erect nipples to brush against my chest. And when she chuckled the heat of her pussy would grind against a very erect, and not so little, Little Captain.

It was obvious when she became acutely aware of the proximity of the Captain, because she gasped as he nudged at her kitty. I tried to stifle a moan, but it was a lost cause when she purposely ground against him. I swear she moaned as well.

"Fuuuuck, Bella!" I grabbed her hips as they started to circle over mine. "You can't just do that to me in the middle of the driveway!" But oh, for the love of god, don't stop! "What if someone sees?" Like your over protective brother. Much to my complete horror and relief she stopped. Using my chest as leverage she pushed herself to a sitting position, effectively trapping my dick between us and causing me to moan much louder this time.

"Shit, Edward! I'm sorry! I'm so embarrassed. Am I crushing you?" she asked and tried to awkwardly climb off me, but I held her in place with my hold on her hips. I moved to sit up underneath her. Again she tried to untangle us.

"Stop, Bella. Stay," I practically begged.

"But I'm too heavy, I'm sorry."

What the fuck? She really thinks she's too big?

For the first time I saw Bella's insecurities. She had always exuded confidence, but suddenly I saw her fragile self esteem and it nearly broke me. She was beautiful and perfect, but for some reason she couldn't see herself as I did.

"Bella," I just wanted her to look at me.

Her hands were clasped in her lap and she studied them as if her GPA depended upon it. She refused to look at me so I took her chin and gently forced her to. I gazed into her eyes, trying to see what it was inside her that kept her from recognizing how fucking amazing she was.

"Edward, please...just let me up." she sounded so small, not at all like the woman who had just an hour earlier demanded my respect and ordered me to call her mistress. This woman was insecure and scared of rejection. She had nothing to be afraid of. I could use a fuck ton of flowery words and say things about how perfect she was, and I'd mean every damn word, but she didn't need words. I didn't want words. I wanted Bella.

Slowly, carefully, I moved my face closer to hers. Her eyes darted to my lips and she licked hers in anticipation. When we were close enough I pressed the softest kiss I could manage against her mouth. I took the whimper she squeaked out as encouragement and kissed her again, just as softly. By the fourth kiss I could feel her relaxing against me. Our bodies took over and the passion that was there before came rushing back. I pulled her to me, needing her to be as close as possible. The kiss deepened and Bella, my Bella, palmed my chest with her soft hands, her nails scratching against my nipples. They made their way into my hair, grabbing and tugging. As we sat there on the wet concrete making out, some part of my brain processed that this is not what I wanted with this woman. Slowing the kiss and gently pulling back I looked into her eyes once again. There was more confidence there now, but she was still unsure. So I said the first thing that came to mind as I sat there underneath the object of my desires, "You have the most beautiful eyes. They're like... liver."

"Liver?" She scoffed.

"Uh, yeah, liver's brown with a hint of red, just like your eyes," I clarified.

"Um, okay. Thanks, I think."

Shit!

I realized then that liver probably wasn't the most romantic thing I could have compared her eyes to. I frantically searched my mental database for something else to compare those eyes to.

"Or Kahlua. That's it! Your eyes remind me of Kahlua!"

She started laughing quietly. "First you compare my orbs to liver, the nastiest meat in the world, now you're comparing them with liquor? Do you have a mental condition I should know about, Cullen?"

"No! Why? What have you heard?" I panicked. For a second I thought she had somehow found out about The Shat. I wasn't too concerned about Pepe. He'd only shown up once, and not yet made a return visit. I stress the yet.

"Nothing. I haven't heard anything, I swear!" she promised.

"Well, I don't have one, no matter what you may or may not hear. Just remember that, okay?"

"Yeah, okay, Edward. I will," she shook her head and smirked at me again. I fucking loved that smirk.

"You really do have beautiful eyes, Bella."

"Thanks, Edward. You eyes are pretty, too." I pulled her close again, just enjoying the feel of her body pressed against mine. I rubbed her back and goose bumps broke out over my skin when the hair of her ponytail came in contact with my arm.

"Edward?" she asked carefully against my shoulder.

"Yeah, Bella?"

"My legs are falling asleep. Can we get up and maybe move this somewhere else? Not to mention that you still really kind of stink."

"Ugh! Of course! Sorry! Here, let me... Well, maybe if...no. Um, you hop up first."

"Sure thing, Edward. Like a fucking bunny." And just like that my Bella was back. She scrambled off me and we stood at the same time. She was brushing off her ass and legs and being the helpful son of a bitch I was I tried to help her.

"I got this, Cullen. Why don't you wipe your own ass off?" she snarked at me.

"Why don't you just do it for me?" I turned and wiggled my fine as fuck ass at her as manly as humanly possible given the circumstances. She smacked my ass with a loud crack and that shit stung! "Damn, mistress! That fucking hurt!"

"Good, don't forget it."

We joked and flirted as we cleaned up our mess. When everything was put away I pulled Bella to me again in a hug.

"Bella? I know this is new for both of us, but I'd like to spend some time with you. See where this goes."

"Me, too, Edward," her voice once again quiet and shy.

"Okay then. I need you to know something first, though." I felt her tense up in anticipation of what I might say. "I think you're beautiful, and smart, and amazing. And I don't want to fuck this up. But I suck at relationships. Think you could be patient with me while we figure out what this is? Can you do that?"

"I've waited this long, haven't I?" I nodded that she had, "Then I'm not going anywhere yet."

"Thank fuck," I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head against hers. I could smell her hair and feel how soft it was. I was quickly loosing myself in the sensation of her.

"I'd best get back to the house. I still have to shower before my meeting," she said.

"Okay." I sighed and kissed her temple. I tried not to dwell on the mental image of Bella in the shower. Naked. Wet. I cleared my throat, "But will you come back afterwards, though?" She climbed on the scooter and attached her helmet.

"If you promise to wash with Grammy Swan's de-stank before I get here."

"Ouch, that's harsh, Swan!"

"Just speaking the truth."

I gave her the number to my cell and programmed hers into mine.

"I'll call when I'm finished. We can decide then what to do, okay?"

I rubbed her back, just needing to feel the physical connection between us. I guess I'd grown a vagina while dry, er- wet humping Bella.

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Golden Boy?"

"Uh-Huh?"

"Just so you know, you'll need to come up with something for us to tell my brother."

"What?"

"You heard me. Good Luck."

With a crank of the engine she was puttering back to her sorority. A wave of panic rushed over me as her warning started to register.

What the fuck was I going to do about Emmett? I did have The Plan, but this new development with Bella complicated the diabolicalness of my Plan. I was going to have to regroup for sure.

Pushing the fear and feelings of impending doom to the back of my mind, I decided to focus on more positive things. Like Bella's tits wet and pressed against me. I made a mental note to file today away in the spank bank for later.

I decided to spend the afternoon reevaluating The Plan and looking for my lucky rabbit's foot from eighth grade. I figured if I was going before the firing squad later I was going to need all the luck I could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet Christmas! GB made a move? Or was it Bella that threw the winning touch down? I feel another BPOV coming up soon.
> 
> Anything resembling citrus in this chapter is proffered to DoUTrustMe in hopes she doesn't follow through with her threats to sue for false lemon advertisement. The good stuff's on the way, Me. I promise.
> 
> Golden Boy was rec'ed by a very sweet KatHat over on her blog and he's had more attention than is healthy for his engorged ego. Thank you, dear for your kind words and support. Eddiekins has big plans for thanking you in very inappropriate ways.
> 
> Ever wonder what a skunk sounds like? Well, wonder no longer:
> 
> Skunk sounds on YouTube:
> 
> www(dot)youtube(dot)com/watch?v=st0Vowq7b4M&feature=fvsr


	9. Come Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The saying, "Long time coming" could be applied to this chapter for a number of reasons. I'll let you discover them on your own. This chapter is Golden Boy's longest to date and is meant as a peace offering for his long absence. He apologizes; as you will see in this chapter, he's been kinda busy.
> 
> Thanks and eternal gratitude to those who see these words before they are safe for human consumption. TwilightMundi, you ARE the Grammar Guru. Your patience with me and my shenanigans is the stuff legends are made of. Hugs, TM. To Barburella, you know the cycle: I write, I stop, you yell, I pout, you yell some more, I sulk, you threaten, I give in and write. If it weren't for you, GB would still be taped to that pole back in the prologue. We both thank you for your support and ass-kicking boots. Megsly and LauraLoo, there are no better pre-readers/skittlers in all the fandom. Thank you for your always entertaining and oftentimes unsettling comments in my Gdocs. And to she who requested to remain nameless: You are one classy Lady. I'd fly Coach with you anywhere, except for maybe Timbuktu. (I hear it smells there.) Thank you for your support and other "stuff." You know what I mean.
> 
> Disclaimer: SM owns the names, I own the sick things they do. By typing that last sentence I pretty much just admitted that I'm not fit for polite society. But when was polite ever fun? Eff polite! Enjoy.

I stood there in the driveway, staring down the street where Bella had long since disappeared around the corner. Bella. Just thinking about her made my pants tight again; my dick strained against the material at my crotch, trying to break free and chase after her. I was completely focused on replaying what took place a mere—how long had it been? I looked at my watch to check. Ten minutes? I'd been standing there staring blankly into the street for over ten minutes. I sighed deeply. A smooth voice behind me pulled me out of my Bella-induced haze.

"She's long gone, lover boy. The neighbors are gonna call the men in white coats if ya keep staring at nothin'.'"

"Damn it, Jazz!" I nearly jumped out of my skin. "Is it really fucking necessary to sneak up on a guy like that?" I raked my hand through my hair. It was a nervous habit my mother had tried to break me of throughout most of my life. I figured it was the least of all my evils, but if I had to choose between giving up whacking off or messing with my hair, then I'd never touch my hair again.

"I did not sneak up on you, Eddiekins. I stood at the door calling your name at least six times before I gave up and walked down here. What's so exciting at the end of our quiet street? And don't try to play dumb. I was watching the little floorshow you and Bella were putting on."

I was speechless. What was I supposed to say to that? Deny it? Argue that what Jazz had actually seen was my trying to realign Bella's back. From underneath her. With my tongue shoved down her throat. Somehow I didn't think that he'd believe me. So instead, I decided to man up and do the only thing I could do: beg him to keep his southern trap shut.

"Fuck, Jazz! You can't say anything! I didn't think anyone could see us! Please don't tell anyone. Especially anyone related to Bella whose name starts with 'em' and ends with 'met!' I'm too fucking young to die!"

"Chill, Edward! Sweet baby Jeebus, you need to get a hold of yourself, man! I wasn't planning on saying anything to Emmett. Yet. But you've got to be more careful if you want to keep that shit on the down low. I can promise you that Em's gonna find out you're bumping uglies with his baby sister if you continue to let her ride you like a seahorse in the driveway. What were you thinking?"

I waited for the Jazz to climb down off his high horse. I knew he meant well, but I was beginning to wonder if he'd sprouted a man-gina with all the nagging he was doing.

"You finished, Dear Abby? I was thinking how good Bella felt rubbing against my massive cock. That's what I was thinking." Maybe it was a tad crass, but I was developing a serious case of blue balls while contemplating my life without my balls. You know, after Emmett cut them off!

Uh, don't you have to have something in order to lose it? In your case that would be balls.

I mentally rolled my eyes at the wanna-be comedian in my head.

"Well, you might want to start thinking with something besides that massive cock if either of you ever wants it to survive long enough to do more than just rub up all over her. I'm just sayin'..."

"I know, Jazz. I'm just tense. God, I hope no one else saw us."

Fat chance, Golden-Boy Genius! I think NASA caught your little foray into amateur porn on the Hubble. That shit's gonna be all over the Internet before you can say "Viral Video!"

Nice. Thanks, Shat. I thought we were finally on the same team.

Not even close, bub. I'm Team Shatner; Team Edward is for pussy-whipped losers and teen-aged girls.

I blocked out the Shat and tried to focus on what Jasper was saying. It wasn't as easy as one might think.

"I don't think so; I just happened to have a good vantage point from my room. That girl has mad equestrian skills," Jazz said as he shook his head.

"Were you watching us, Jasper? That's just fucked up!"

"It's not like you were in the privacy of your room, Golden Boy. You had that shit out on centerfield. Next time move it to the end zone or at least to the sidelines. There are kids on this street!" He was obviously giving me a hard time about my... hard time.

"It won't happen again. Believe me. I happen to like the current arrangement of my junk. And I can pretty much guarantee that Em would perform gender reassignment surgery on me if he caught me humping his baby sister in the driveway."

"And he wouldn't bother with the anesthesia."

"The sick fuck," I agreed.

I assume Jasper had bestowed his allotted wisdom for the day, because he just turned and walked back into the house. I collected my supplies and did the same. I sprinted up the stairs to shower and rub one out to visions of Bella writhing and panting over me. I hoped with all of me that we'd be spending copious amounts of time in each other's presence in the very near future.

But before that could happen I had to come up with a viable reason for me and the delicious Mistress Swan to be spending time together. She had commanded it, after all. And I was nothing if not obedient. Okay, maybe that was a load of shit, but Bella barking out orders was hot, and if she told me to lick my own balls I would gladly do so. I could have gone with an elaborate story that involved Bella contracting a rare, life-threatening disease that required her to receive daily blood transfusions from a willing donor (me playing the part of the willing donor, of course), or I could keep it simple and concoct a scenario- perhaps a group project- that would require the two of us (and our private parts) to work closely together for the next few weeks. I decided that simple was probably the best plan. The fewer details for me to fuck up the better. Not to mention that the idea of my private parts spending quality time with Bella's private parts sounded a fuckton more appealing than having to be stuck repeatedly with needles just to spend time with the object of my desire. Even if it was just a hypothetical scenario.

It was under this guise that I casually mentioned to Emmett later that afternoon that I would be seeing Bella later. That conversation went better than I'd imagined. Then again, I'd imagined loss of life and limb, so even if my vision had been half accurate then it would have been a fucking improvement. I paused before knocking on his door to give myself a little pep talk.

Chill, Edward. If you go in there all shaking and sweaty he's gonna know something's up. He can smell fear like dogs and kids can.

And piss, Eddiekins. He can smell piss too, and if you don't chill the fuck out you're going to piss your pants and then he'll know something's up.

Thanks so much, Shat. Always so helpful, my inner voice deadpanned.

Anytime, GB.

Nervously, I knocked on the door to Emmett's room. It was immediately answered with a booming, "Fucking enter!" I quickly sniffed myself for the twentieth time since showering with Granny Swan's "Skunk De-funk," and was surprised that I didn't smell even the faintest hint of eau de skunk. I could have kissed that old lady on the mouth for her miracle wash-all, but I preferred sucking face with her granddaughter.

When I walked into Em's room I never would have expected to find him sitting cross-legged on the floor flipping through a Cosmo magazine. I guess it was better than walking in on him "polishing the silver," but it was disturbing all the same. He looked up from his perusal long enough to see who had breached the threshold of his inner sanctuary. "Oh, hey, Eddiekins. What can I do ya for?" I rolled my eyes and stepped farther into the room. I stayed close to the door, though, in case I needed a fast getaway.

"Hey, Em. Sorry to interrupt your, um, reading," I motioned toward the magazine in his lap, "but I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Sure, man, just let me mark my page." He dog-eared the article on "Sexy Ways to Use a Vibrator on Him."

"Yeah, I'd hate for you to lose your place," I snarked.

"Watch it, Cullen. This could be a very informative article that could come in handy someday." I fought down the urge to laugh.

"You do realize that's a magazine for women, right?"

"Don't be asinine; of course, I do. But if ya wanna please the ladies then you have to know what they want. Cosmo is the bible when it comes to the sex lives of women. Any man worth his weight in the sack should have a subscription to this magazine. It might even help you get a little play, Eddiekins."

"Um, thanks? I'll take your suggestion into consideration." I swallowed down the thick, hard lump that had formed in my throat, wondering if he'd be so apt to dispense the sex ed if he knew it was his sister's pants I wanted to "play" in.

I highly doubt it, Golden Boy. He'd be too busy tearing your dick from your pelvis and shoving it up your—

OKAY! Point made. Now fuck off, Shat! This is hard enough without your two cents.

Fucking... off.

"So, what did you want?"

"Huh," was my brilliant response.

"I don't have all day, man, and you knocked on my fucking door, so what did you want?"

I quickly recovered and braced myself for the rain of pain that was sure to pour down when I told him about Bella and me spending more "quality" time together. Thank God I had something to lead in with to soften the blow. I would owe Rosalie my first born, but at this point it was worth it.

"Well, uh, I was just thinking about our discussion the other day."

"Which one, Cullen. I don't consider it a highlight, but we do kinda talk daily these days. Lucky you."

"Heh, heh. Yeah, we do, don't we? Um, I was referring to when we were in the locker room. And you were uh, upset..." He continued leafing through his Bible of Blasphemy. "... about Rosalie." That got his attention. His head shot up and he glared at me. If looks could kill.

"Shut the fucking door." Not one to poke an angry bull with a red-hot poker, I did as I was instructed. "I thought I told you to never speak of it again. That was a moment of weakness! What goes down in the locker room stays in the locker room, fucker." My hands flew up in front of me in a pathetic attempt to protect myself if need be.

"Whoa, there, big guy! I haven't said a word about what took place amongst the lockers and jock straps. I was just trying to remind you of our conversation where you asked me to 'help' you."

"Why would you need to remind me of that? Do you think I'm senile or suffering from Alzheimer's Disease?"

"What? No! Of course not," I sputtered.

"Then, what the fuck, Cullen?" He stood up and was inches from my face.

"I think I know of a way to melt the heart of the Ice Queen."

"You mean like your brilliant plan to ignore her? 'Cause that's worked out so well for me and all." His biting, sarcastic tone told me that I had best talk fast or end up like road kill along I-75.

"Hey, now, that was working until you had to go and start gnawing on your foot like it was hot wings or some shit! But since you couldn't keep the sexual innuendoes to a minimum, the Plan backfired. Now we, uh, you, need to approach her from a different perspective."

"And what do you suggest?"

"'Operation Delicate Flower,' of course."

"What the fuck is that, numb nuts?"

"Rose is the 'delicate flower,' Em. Treat her as if she were a prized orchid or rare species of, well, rose. A girl likes to think she's special. Rosalie is no different."

"Aren't you the Don Juan all of a sudden."

"Nah, I've just been watching Rose and noticed how none of the guys really listen to her. They don't even really see her; they just stare at her and say really crass things when she's around. That's got to get old after a while. So, I figured if you were the one guy who was doing things differently then she'd notice and, in turn, notice you. That's all."

He stood there for a moment, not saying anything. I think he may have been stunned into silence. It was a moment I wanted to cherish.

"Wow, Eddiekins. That was deep—and crazy enough that it might just work. So you're saying I should be all gentlemanly and shit and treat her like a lady, and she'll be begging me to do her?"

"Something like that, man. But maybe you shouldn't focus on the 'doing her' part as a goal. Just concentrate on convincing Rose that she doesn't have to completely hate you."

We laughed at the thought of Rose having any strong emotion toward Em other than hate. A nagging voice reminded me why I'd initiated this conversation to begin with. I could feel the sweat as it formed beads on my forehead. I figured quick and painless was the best course of action. An image flashed through my mind of duct tape and the sickening sound of adhesive ripping away deeply-rooted hair rang in my ears. Quick wasn't always fucking painless. I fumbled with the rabbit's foot I had shoved deep in my pocket.

"Hey, man, I just wanted you to know that I was going to be picking up Bella this afternoon to work on a project for one of our classes." I searched his face for any indication that he may have seen the love fest that went down in our driveway earlier. The surprise and genuine interest told me otherwise.

"Really? That's right, I'd forgotten you two had a few classes together. Okay, say hi to my little sis for me."

That's it? No irrational rage? No, "Me Hulk! Me smash you for humping Hulk's sister in driveway?" I was shocked that it could be this simple.

Don't look a gift ape in the face! Get the hell out of here and go get the girl, dumbass!

But I couldn't leave well enough alone. "Sure thing, I just wanted you to know that we'd probably be spending quite a bit of time together and I didn't want you to get the wrong idea."

"While I appreciate the gesture for what it is, Cullen, I hardly think it's me that's in danger of getting the wrong idea here." I blinked stupidly at him as he continued. "Let's just make sure we understand each other. Bella is the gem in our familial crown, and while we're here at UF it's my job to make sure she's safe. You just make sure that while you're with my little cygnet that she's well taken care of. If you return her to sorority row with as much as a hair out of place then I'm going to snap you in half, filet you, and use your spine as a comb to smooth down her hair. Are we clear?"

I swallowed down the massive lump of bile that had managed to work its way up my esophagus and nodded my understanding, doing my best impression of a zombie. His massive meat hook of a hand clapped on my shoulder, nearly bringing me to my knees. "Excellent, Golden Boy. Now go get 'em, tiger!"

I wasn't sure if he was trying to be funny or if he was that stupid, but as I walked out of McCarty's room I could only think two things: one—I had Emmett's permission to spend as much time with Bella as I wanted. I felt the rabbit's foot in my pocket again and thought, "Well, this foot may not have been very fucking lucky for you Bugs, but it sure as hell came in handy for me!" And two—What the fuck is a cygnet? I made a mental note to look that up before I left to get Bella.

8==D

I pulled up to the Delta Gamma house and sat there for what felt like fucking forever. In all reality it was only probably a few minutes, but I just sat there thinking. Thinking about who was waiting for me inside, thinking about what my next move should be, and thinking how fucking good my car smelled. It was like that shit Bella brought over was magic. I was just glad that I wasn't going to have to scrap the damn thing.

Walking up to the front door of the house where the chick you want lives can be nerve-racking for some guys, but it never had been for me. What had I, Edward "Golden Boy" Cullen, have to worry about? Not to mention that I hadn't ever had to walk that road before; I'd just honk the horn and they'd come running out. But there I was, making the "Walk of Lame" as I'd always called it, and nervous as hell doing it. Not only was I hopefully walking toward the girl who had become the star of every fantasy I'd had since seeing her, but I was going to have to face the only thing remotely as scary as seeing her father or brother on the other side of the door: her sorority sisters. Just when I thought I'd be better off running back to the car and doing the usual honk-and-wait routine, the front door swung open and there stood Rose smirking at me.

"Well, well, what do we have here? Is the Delta Gamma house to be graced with the presence of a gentleman caller? And none other than the Golden Boy Cullen, at that!" She looked back over her shoulder and called into the house at no one in particular, "I hope you girls are all up to date with those Depo-Provera* shots. Edward Cullen is in tha hiz-ouse!"

"Very funny, Snoop Bitchy-Bitch," I quipped. "You gonna let me in or make me stand on the fucking porch all night?"

"I don't know, Cullen, are my girls safe with you on the premises?" she asked; her tone was light and amused but she blocked the door with her body.

"Please, Rose. You know there's only one girl in this house I'm even remotely interested in. I think your 'home for wayward girls' is safe from the likes of me." My patience was wearing thin. All I fucking wanted to do was see Bella, and there I was trapped in limbo, verbally sparring with Rosalie. I may have growled the last part at her in my frustration.

"Whoa, there, nice impression of the Big Bad Wolf, buddy. I'm on your side, remember? No need to huff and puff and blow your way in." She laughed and motioned for me to come in. "Welcome to the inner sanctum."

I tried to relax and stepped over the threshold into Neverland. The Dee-Gee house was well known throughout the campus as being a "dry house," and I didn't mean alcohol. For whatever reason, the girls—who were all known to be "active"—took an oath to keep the house a sex-free zone. If they wanted a little somethin' somethin' then they needed to look for somewhere else to engage in their extracurricular activities. Therefore, the Delts all referred to our sister sorority as Neverland, as in "never gonna land a lay under that roof."

"Have a seat in the parlor; she'll be right down," Momma Rose instructed.

"Parlor? What is this, Gone with the Wind?"

"We are in the south, but you're no Rhett Butler. Sit your ass on the chair. Want something to drink?"

"Nah, but thanks. So, if we have a few minutes, I have something to ask you about."

"Sure. What's on your mind, Ashley?"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm no pansy ass."

"Yet you're pansy enough to know who the fuck I'm talking about, douche. Now, what did you want to talk about?"

"Emmett. I want to talk about Emmett, and, just so you know, I happen to have had a fangirl back in Forks who liked to have Gone with the Wind playing in the background when we fucked. We fucked a lot."

"Ew. Too much information, pretty boy. What could you possibly have to talk to me about that concerns that waste of perfectly good man meat? I swear, if the guy would just get a damn personality transplant I might be remotely interested in him."

"Oh, really? Interesting..."

"What? What's interesting, Cullen? What are you scheming now?" I was amused that Rose seemed to be a touch flustered and tried to work that in my favor.

"Me? Innocent, little me? Never!"

"Pfft. You would never willingly use the words 'little' or 'innocent' when describing yourself. You're hiding something in addition to scheming. Spill it. Now."

"Fine. But I wasn't scheming. I just came from having an interesting conversation with that 'waste of man meat,' as you called him."

"You mean he can hold an intelligent conversation that doesn't revolve around the joys of sausage or how to build a town entirely from Legos?"

"Rose. Stop it. You know he's smart. Dense, maybe, but the guy's really smart." I found it odd and disturbing that I was here defending my arch nemesis to the woman of his dreams, but I soldiered on. I would do whatever it took to get Bella. "Well, smart enough to like you."

"Whatever," she scoffed. "So, the big ape has sexcellent taste in women that in no way reflects his SAT scores."

"But, see, it does. He could be out there, getting whomever he wanted. Instead, he's home right now, trying to give himself a personality transplant."

"What? You don't make any sense. You do know that's impossible—kinda like unicorns, leprechauns, or the national debt ever being paid in full. If I had to guess, I suspect he's home either perfecting his Madden skills or 'playing with Dick.'"

"You're probably right on both counts, but the guy can multitask. Have you never watched him out on the field?"

"Whatever. What makes you think he's undergoing some kind of metamorphosis?"

"He told me so."

"Oh, now, I'm convinced," she deadpanned. "He's a changed man! Alert the Alligator**! Emmett McCarty has now become a card-carrying, honorary chick. And why the fuck are you here talking him up like he's the best thing since spermicide?"

"Why are you so bitchy today, Rose? Chill the fuck out. Emmett isn't that bad, and he's trying."

"I find that hard to believe."

"Care to make a friendly wager on the matter?"

"You really want to make a bet that Emmett, otherwise known as 'charismatically challenged,' is capable of altering his already stilted personality radically enough for me, Rosalie Hale, to find him appealing?"

I guess she took my suggestion seriously, because two minutes later we were shaking hands after deciding that if McCarty proved that he was a changed man that I would win and she would have to do my laundry for the rest of the semester. If the Pillsbury Doughboy failed and botched his personality transplant then I would have to be Rose's manservant for the span of one week—answering her every beck and call while wearing a cheerleader's uniform. There was no way in hell I was going to lose that bet. My poor, wounded ego couldn't afford to.

Just as we were agreeing on the final terms of the "agreement" Bella came down the stairs looking hotter than should be legally allowed. There wasn't going to be any studying going down tonight, pretend or otherwise. The only thing I wanted to study at that moment were the curves under her tight sweater! The only thing tighter than her top were the jeans she must have painted on. Oh, and my fucking pants! They were fairly snug, too. My fingers itched to skim over the soft fabric that stretched across her chest and feel the peaks of her nipples. Had I mentioned that the top was tight? Because I could totally see the hard outline of her perky tits. For a moment I flashed back to this morning and what it had felt like to have the weight of those tits cupped in my hands.

I like 'em big! I like 'em chunky!

You've got to be kidding me, Shat!

What? Ain't nottin' wrong with lovin' chunky...

I figured, "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

I like 'em funny

I like 'em spunky

I like 'em witty

I like 'em smart... with brains

Girl I Like your big...

What you say?

I had obviously lost what precious little hold on sanity I had, because I was singing "I Like 'Em Big" with The Shat, and enjoying every second of it. I'm fairly sure I was humming the tune out loud as I watched her boobs gently bounce with every step. Again, I remind you that said sweater was tight, and thin. Did I mention thin?

For what felt like the umpteenth time, I was brought out of my trance by a throat clearing. I wondered if the whole fucking campus was coming down with a cold or some shit. It seemed like everyone I saw that day was clearing their throats at me!

Somehow, Bella's tits had moved across the room without my realizing it and were now inches from me and just within my grasp. I must have been caught up in the roll of their tide and hadn't noticed their forward trajectory. Bella stood in front of me and said her hello. I blame the proximity of her chest to my person (and The Shat) for what I said next.

"I like 'em big. I like 'em plumpy." I expected to get a knee to the balls for that one, or at the very least, a stinging slap, but my girl just giggled and said, "I know you do, Moto Moto. I think I just found my new nickname for you. Come on, let's get out of here."

8==D

By the time we got away from the Dee-Gee house the sun was starting to set; it was that time of evening where it wasn't daylight anymore but not quite night time either. What's the word I'm looking for? Oh yeah, dusk. We decided to grab something to eat at the diner down the street; a debate broke out over if we should go see a movie, and, if so, which one. Eventually, she won, saying that we couldn't talk in a dark theater, even though my counter argument was clearly superior: while a movie wasn't conducive to conversation it was, in fact, the perfect place for me to make-out with her and feel her up. I opted instead to take her over to Lake Alice and walk along the paths there. There were plenty of opportunities to duck off into the woods and fool around.

We drove to the lake after eating. Dinner was nice. It was amazing being alone with Bella. Well, as alone as two people can be in a restaurant full of other people stuffing their faces and pretending to be interested in what the person across from them was saying. The conversation between us was laid back and light. Bella mentioned my lack of skunk stank, and my dick did the Conga when she said she much preferred my freshly-showered scent. I wanted to drag her back to my shower at the Delt House and lather her with my Axe body wash. Little Captain must have agreed; he was about to break his neck to get closer to her.

I found a place to park and I took her hand in mine as we headed down the closest path. There was a sliver of moon lighting the path and reflecting off the dark waves of Bella's hair. She looked so tempting. I decided to make my move. We walked along a little farther; without warning, I tugged on her hand. "Follow me," I instructed her. Her grip on my hand tightened as I steered us off the well-worn path and onto the leaves and branches that covered the ground. Once we were a few yards away from potentially prying eyes I backed her up against the closest tree. "I've been dying to do this all night, Bella." I licked my lips in anticipation before bringing my mouth down over hers. The whimper that escaped from her could have knocked me down if I hadn't been holding onto her hips like a life preserver. A soft, cushy, warm life preserver. Water safety was never so fucking hot.

I had intended to kiss her slowly, purposefully. Our kiss from earlier, when she rode me like a professional jockey in my driveway, had been desperate and rushed. This kiss was supposed to be my chance to show her that, for me, this was more than stolen moments of sneaking away for a grope or a hook up. I wanted more from Bella, and I hoped she wanted more from me, too.

When did I become such a fucking girl?

That's what I've been trying to tell you, pussy! Now STFU and get in there, SeaBiscuit!

Spurred on by the "encouraging" words of The Shat, I dove deeper into our kiss, licking and teasing her mouth, encouraging her to open to me. She didn't make me wait long; soon, she was as invested in our embrace as I was, moaning and panting as we did our best to rub every square inch of bark off the tree we were propped against. Bella's glorious tits would brush against my chest every time she moved or took a breath. It was a sensory overload. The feel of her lips against mine, the rough bark under the hand I used to prop myself against the tree to avoid crushing her, the soft pile of her sweater at her hip that I had fisted into a wrinkled mess, the tickle of her hair when the slight breeze teased it across my skin, the feel of her nails etching passionate pleas across my back. My mind worked furiously thinking a million things at once.

God, she feels good! How far can I take this? I wonder if she'd be okay if I felt her up just a little? Or took this fucking sweater off altogether? Fuck, I wanna take all her clothes off and have her naked and under me! I wonder what the chances are of that happening tonight?

Slim to none, Mr. Anxious Pants.

Shat, I'm only gonna tell you this once: this is a party for two; get the fuck lost.

Fine. But don't blame me if your night ends in blue balls instead of happy endings. I was just trying to help you get laid.

Duly noted, now scram!

Bella moaned and I, of course, took that to be the universal invitation for "Touch my tits, please!" So I did. And they felt better than I remembered. If I could have found a way to walk around the rest of life with my hands on Bella's boobs, I would have done so. So soft, and heavy. And when my thumb brushed across her nipple? Oh, God, I wanted it in my mouth! I gently pinched the tender, erect flesh and she whimpered her gratitude. Her hands had been steadily migrating toward my ass; she roughly grabbed hold and pulled my hips flush with hers, grinding against my cock. The signals she was sending couldn't have been much clearer, unless she stripped us both of all our clothes, threw me to the ground, and straddled me. I didn't think that was something she'd have a problem doing, considering our make-out session from earlier.

She was driving me crazy! I felt as if I was going to explode if I didn't touch her skin soon. Slowly, I drew my hand down her body, my fingers slipping under the hem of her sweater. The skin of her stomach was smooth and cushy under my explorations. My hand continued its upward path with tentative sweeps, I gasped when I met the lace of her bra. "What color is this sexy bra, Bella? I need to know."

"Orange," she panted against my mouth. "My panties are blue, just in case you were wondering about those, too."

Gotta love a girl with school spirit!

"Go Gators!" I growled and then went back to ravishing her mouth. My greedy phalanges hooked over the edge of the cup and released her from its confines. The air in my lungs evacuated my chest in a rush of wind when I felt the creamy, smooth skin of her boob at last.

So smooth! So fucking good!

"Ugh, Edward! God, yes! Your hand feels so good. More."

Not one to disappoint a lady, I bunched her sweater up around her neck, and my mouth turned its attention to the heaven that awaited it in her perfect tits. I lapped and sucked at her like she was an ice cream cone quickly melting in the summer sun. Lefty was surely jealous of Righty, so I paid her some attention as well. Bella ground herself against my thigh, trying to find friction to relieve the ache that was building in both of us. Her moans filled the cool air around us. I was so caught up in the nirvana that was her rack that I was caught completely off guard when she decided to get a little handsy, as well. At one point her hands were kneading my ass, the next they were groping my dick through my jeans. My hips bucked against her, desperate for more.

Looks like my hands aren't the only part of me that's greedy.

Bella obliged, rubbing and tugging at me. "Damn these jeans! I can't get a grip on you!" Faster than I could say "let me help you with that" she had them unbuttoned, the zipper down, and was whipping my cock out of my boxer briefs. I hissed when her hot, little hand made contact and pumped me confidently. "Bella. Mmmm, just like that, baby. So good..." I hummed in appreciation. This girl knew what she was doing, and I was so very glad she was doing it to me at that moment.

I wanted her to feel as good as she was making me feel. I was no longer content with just feeling her up, so I moved the pleasure party I was bringing below her waist, as well. While she continued working her magic on my disco stick, I quickly popped the button on her jeans and slid the zipper down. Glancing down I saw that her panties were indeed blue—and lace. I slipped under the waistband and over the soft curls there. The feel of her slick and needy against my hand was intense. She moaned, "Fuck, Edward!" Her jeans were too tight for me to get in there and really work; believe me, I fucking tried! I hated to abandon ship after setting the U.S.S. Horny afloat, so I settled for rubbing and grinding my fingers along the seam of her jeans until she was writhing and chanting my name as she came.

No longer distracted by my efforts to get her off, she went to work on me with renewed purpose. Suddenly, she gently pushed me back and dropped to her knees. Her mouth closed over the tip of my cock and I groaned in ecstasy. It had been so long since I'd had a chick's lips around my dick, but never had it felt that amazing. After only a handful of passes of her very-talented mouth up and down my love torpedo I blew my load before I could warn her to back away. She didn't seemed fazed, though, taking it all like it was whipped cream rather than cum. She was fucking amazing, and I told her so. I helped her up and pulled her to me.

"Wow, Bella. That was... beyond words. Thank you." I had never thanked a girl for getting me off before. I just figured it was as much a pleasure for them as it was for me. With Bella, though, I couldn't stifle the gratitude that welled up inside me. I was in my blissful happy place when I heard a throat clear behind me and felt Bella tense up in my arms. I looked over my shoulder to see a man in a uniform pointing a flashlight in our direction.

"What the fuck? Think you could stop shining that shit in our eyes," I called as I heard Bella zipping up her jeans and assumed she was straightening her clothes.

"Mind telling me what you kids are doing out here in the woods... at night," the man asked smugly.

"Just going for a stroll. Is there a problem with that?" I was being a little difficult, but this asshat had interrupted my post-coital bliss, and I was not at all happy about that. He pointed the beam of light down to cast its light along the ground.

"Well, no, except that you're supposed to stick to the paths, as per the rules clearly stated on the signs. Not to mention you two were making enough noise to warrant a few calls to the Ranger's station. Someone reported they heard animals mauling a hiker. I just came out to make sure no one was hurt. From the looks of it, though, I'd say you two were definitely mauled, but not hurt." The mood killer grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at us. It was then that I noticed a cool breeze on my half-mast dick. Officer Friendly noticed it the same time I did and hummed his admiration. He was eyeing me like I was a juicy cheeseburger and we were in a drive-through rather than the woods. "Nice," was his commentary on my junk. I quickly tucked my then fully-deflated dick back into my jeans and closed up shop. I did not want him to think I was a twenty-four hour window or some shit.

"We'll just be going now," I informed him. Grabbing Bella's hand I tugged at her until she followed.

"Sorry," she called behind us. "We didn't see the signs."

"Just be sure to stay on the path from now on!" he shouted back. I didn't hear the last part clearly, but it sounded like he laughed and said, "Come again."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Depo-Provera is a form of birth control administered via shots every three months.
> 
> **The Alligator is the Campus Newspaper for UF and where Bella works.
> 
> A/N: There really is a very large lake on the UF campus named Lake Alice. It's beautiful and everyone flocks to its shores. Google it.
> 
> There aren't very many chapters left of this fic. I'm estimating three or four at the most, so we are in the home stretch! Thank you all for the wonderful comments and hilariously funny theories you leave me in reviews. I don't deserve you people. *Snuggles and smooches* Until next time, Lambies...


	10. Success is How High You Bounce When You Hit Rock Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a thanks for being so patient and putting up with my complete disregard for posting schedules, I've written an outtake that is posted under the Premature Emasculation on my profile called "See Ya Later, Alligator". It follows this chapter and. It answers some very big questions. Enjoy.
> 
> Oh- I still don't own Twilight. Just in case you were wondering...

"Oh, god, Edward! More! Right there- just like that! Oh! Oh! Baby! Harder! Harder! HARDER! Ugh!"

I pounded into her with everything I had in me. Every time she cried for more, I gave it to her.

"Bella! Oh, Bella! God, you feel good! Your sweet little pussy is so tight! Your skin, it's like silk! I... ugh! I wanna wrap myself up in you, baby! You like this?" I punctuated each word with the powerful thrust of a well conditioned athlete, "Golden... Boy has... all.. the... right... moves! Take it, baby! Take it!"

We'd been going at it like rabbits in the back of my Viper, and I was positive it would reek of sweat and pussy for weeks, but it was Bella, so I didn't care. And, fuck, I'd take pussy over skunk any day. I had her sprawled out in the back seat, slick and slipping underneath me. I could feel her getting close; she was clamping down on my dick like a vice. It was so tight up in there that I had to hit it that much harder just to push my way in with each thrust. I thought how it was a good thing she liked it rough, 'cause rough was what she was getting. A fuckton of rough!

"Ugh! Edward! YES! Just like that! Pound me like a jackhammer, uhhhhhhh!" Every thrust was answered with a loud moan or cry. My girl was vocalizing like a porn star, and there I was unable to use my phone to record that shit! I would have made that her ringtone if I could have.

"That's right, who's your daddy? Want more? Beg, Bella! Beg!" I screwed my eyes shut as I concentrated on the task at hand, er- dick.

"Edward... Edward! Ugh! ED-WARD!" Her cries struck me as panicked, not the fiery calls of a woman the throws of passion. My eyes flew open and I searched for her face to assure myself she was all right. I was met by an equally panicked look instead of the "O" face I was hopping to see. "Fuck, Edward! Wake up! You're dreaming," she hissed at me. I looked around the room, dazed.

Where was I? Oh yeah, psychology. Fuck.

Pretty Boy sucks again!

Don't you mean strikes again, Shat?

No, "strikes" could possibly have a positive connotation. You just suck.

"Edward? Are you okay? Edward!" Bella's voice was low, but overflowing with concern. She had a firm, okay, painful grasp on my bicep, and her nails were digging deeper into the muscles with every moment that passed without a response from me.

"Dammit, Bella, I'm fine! But if you keep squeezing the fuck out of my arm I'm not gonna be able to play this week, and Coach will kill you and me!" She released me from her death grip and glared at me.

"Sorry, but I was trying to wake the dead. Now that I can see that you're alive I think I'll strangle you!"

"What? Why? What did I do?"

"Seriously? You were just sleeping in class!"

"And?"

"AND apparently dreaming!"

"That's what people do when they sleep, Bella- they dream." I wondered why I was having to explain this basic concept to this very smart girl.

"I know, smart ass, but your dream was clearly of the triple X variety."

"Excuse me?"

"You were dreaming, Edward. Out loud!" She hissed again, "And your cries for me to 'Take it!' were competing with the sub par lecture the TA is giving. I thought it only fair to him to wake you up so the other students didn't have to chose between who they should listen to: you or Burt the Splurt."

"That's very considerate of you, Bella," I said, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from my eyes and looked around at a room full of faces all trained on me.

I guess I should have been embarrassed, but at that point I couldn't be bothered. I mean, come on, I'd been fucking taped to a flagpole, naked, for fuck's sake. There was no way I was going to be embarrassed by falling asleep in class. That was until I looked at Bella again. She was looking at all the people looking at us. Her face was a shade of red I'd never seen before, and I worried that she might actually pass out.

"Bella, are you okay?"

"Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod... please just let the ground open up and swallow me now. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. Calgon, take me away! Beam me up, Scotty! Dammit! Still here!" She was chanting and rambling all kinds of shit, and she had me worried.

"Bella, what are you doing?" I asked her. I'm not gonna lie, the whole Captain Kirk reference freaked me out a little. I wondered if The Shat was in her head, too.

"I'm trying to will myself into oblivion, or tap into my superhuman powers of invisibility, or maybe go back in time or... or something. Oh, lord, I'm so embarrassed!" The red continued to deepen as she buried her face in her hands and sank down into a nearby desk. My own embarrassment made an appearance, albeit somewhat late to the party. I was a still little surprised by her reaction, considering just days ago we had nearly been caught in the woods with our pants down around our ankles. Literally. But seeing her so upset threw me into action. I turned my attention to the bewildered faces trained on us.

"That's all for this show, folks. Come back at two and four for repeat performances. We now return you to your regular scheduled lecture. You have the floor, Burt." I grabbed our bags in one hand and her arm in the other and tugged her up the aisle and out the back door. A few random claps and catcalls followed us as we retreated from the room. Once we were safely outside, I dropped everything and grabbed her arms, turning her to face me, but she wouldn't actually look at me.

"Bella, look at me, please! I'm sorry you're embarrassed, but you've got to know that wasn't on purpose. I was dreaming, for fuck's sake!"

"I know you were, Edward, but the entire class heard you yelling my name and ordering me to call you 'daddy'!"

I felt bad for her, but I didn't quite get why she was so upset. I probably shouldn't have told her that, though, but I did. Stupid faulty verbal filter.

"You don't get it, do you, Edward? Everyone heard what you were dreaming, and it was fucking crystal clear it was me you were dreaming about." She stared at me like I was slow and missing the point, and honestly, I was. Okay, she was a private person, I got that, but where was the girl who had dry humped me in the driveway of my frat house? "Edward, all those people will now go and tell their stupid buddies and bestie bitches about what happened today, and half of them know Emmett in some way or another..." Call me dense, but I still wasn't following her reasoning. I shook my head trying to rattle all the pieces into place.

Don't shake too hard, numb nads. You may just shake what little sense you have right out your head.

Not. Now. Shatner.

"And...?"

"Do I have to spell it out for you in whipped cream across my naked body for you to get the point, Edward?"

"Actually, that would be especially helpful; and now that you mention it, I am a little hungry." I always woke up hungry after having a smexy dream.

"Shut up, Edward! What happened in there was horrible! I can never show my face in that class again! And I need that damn class to graduate! And that's just the start of the fuckery! You never seem to take anything except football seriously. What are we supposed to do if Emmett finds out we've been sneaking around? Because I can bet that before sunset tonight my adoring big brother will be fully aware that we have carnal knowledge of one another! I hope you're bendy, Mr. Golden Boy, so you can kiss your dick goodbye!"

Ooooh, buurrrrrnnnn!

Fuck off, Shat!

What? Can't a guy appreciate a good burn when he hears one?

Not when it's at my expense!

Well, that's no fun! Those are the best kind!

I looked to see Bella's retreating form as she hurried away from me.

"Hey! Where are you going?" I yelled after her. I couldn't understand what she was getting so worked up about.

"Away from you!"

Ooooh! Baby got (come) back!

SHAT! Fuck off! I don't need you and your random Sir Mix-a-Lot references right now! I'm in the midst of a crisis here! Bella just walked off!

And you LET her!

What was I supposed to do, wrestle her to the ground and make her talk to me?

Well, you two have been spending a lot of time rolling around together lately. Why stop now? Oh, yeah, 'cause she obviously doesn't want you to tickle her with your pickle anymore! Bwahahaha!

You're evil. And wrong. And she does too, she's just mad right now. I think.

I refused to consider that she was walking away for good. Not after the two previously glorious weeks of secret meetings resulting in some of the best sex I had ever had; we were finally getting into a groove and getting our groove on. What wasn't there to love about fantastic fellatio and copious copulation? The fact that it was Bella who I was getting jiggy with made that my definition of the perfect sex life. And believe me, before I'd come to UF I had a pretty fan-fucking-tastic sex life. These past few weeks had eclipsed all of that. I counted our first time together amongst my top ten all time favorite moments. Like just about everything with us, it wasn't planned. Hell, to be honest, I wasn't even expecting a (most fucktastic) blowjob that night. I'd come to consider that top amongst Bella's many talents. So, I was more than surprised when things heated up past the point of no return. In public no less.

It was a funny story. Well, funny if it wasn't your story, and you weren't in the middle of the action. But I could look back at it and laugh. "Time heals all wounds," and all that shit. Anyway...

Bella and I had been enjoying the pleasures of discovering one another's bodies and learning what buttons to push to make the other "sing". I was getting pretty good at making her hit the high notes in record time, but that had never been an issue for me when it came to women. With Bella, though, it was suddenly really important to me. I took a lot of pride in knowing I could bring her intense pleasure. And I wasn't just referring to orgasms, although she was experiencing her fair share of those. No, I loved watching her face light up when I got something, anything, right. I learned that she loved a good adventure- the crazier the better. Just as long as we didn't get caught and it wouldn't go on her permanent record. And I loved that I could bring adventure to her life.

One night, we were out walking hand in hand and passed a business that rented out bouncy houses. You know, the kind you see at kids' parties and out in front of car dealerships. "Hop On Pop's Inflatable Fun" was obviously a major operation; they had a fenced in area where they had a dozen or more moon bounces on display. I couldn't resist all that inflated goodness. I looked at Bella and grabbed onto the chain link fence. Looking back I challenged, "You coming?"

"I don't know, Edward. That's trespassing and breaking and entering and I don't need a criminal record."

"Aw, come on! Don't be a stick in the mud! Live a little! No one's around, and they wouldn't leave them inflated if they didn't want people to jump on them." I might have had a hint of a whine to my voice and I may have busted out the pouty lip.

"No! Not the lip, Golden Boy! Do not even try to get me to do your evil bidding by sticking that lip out at me! It won't work."

"Plllllease, Bella? It'll be fun, and I promise we won't get caught!"

"What are you, like, a five year old girl in pig tails?"

"What are you, a chicken?"

"Fuck you, Cullen! You know I'm not a chicken, I just don't want to end up behind bars and bunking with a 350 pound broad named 'Large Marge'. I'm too pretty for prison."

"You won't, I promise, beautiful. Just come on..." I urged her as I began climbing over the fence. "Besides, they aren't really serious about keeping people out."

"Oh, really? What part of this twelve foot high fence screams, 'WELCOME! COME ON IN!'?"

"There's no barbed wire," I pointed out.

"Ahhh. Then they're clearly inviting us in." Bella looked around before sighing as she grasped the fence and started climbing. "Not to mention there aren't any motes."

"No motes?" I quipped.

"Haven't you heard? They're the latest in Bouncy House security systems. Especially the castles." She motioned to the few moon bounces that resembled castles as she hopped down.

"Nope, no motes. Clearly these people are not serious about protecting their investment." I wrapped my arm around her waist and guided her over to one of the models on display. It dawned on me that she had climbed that twelve foot fence like a pro. "Where did you learn to climb like that, Swan? I'm impressed."

"I grew up with Emmett for a brother, Edward," she offered as an excuse, as if that should make everything clear as day. It kind of did. "I had to learn to climb higher and faster to get away from the Atomic Wedgies and Nuclear Noogies he was infamous for when we were kids. I can still out-climb that mother trucker."

"Good to know. Now can we stop talking about your douche-waffle of a brother long enough for me to kiss you properly?"

"Oh, Edward... You say the sweetest things!" Her voice sang with sarcasm, then she grabbed me by the shirt and tugged me closer so that our lips met. The kiss ended much sooner than I would have liked. Bella toed off her sneakers and scrambled up into the bouncy castle. "What are you waiting for, Cullen? Chicken?" Then the most beautiful, sensual woman I had ever known began to bounce. With each jump she giggled and the sound was like music to my ears. Pure joy.

I couldn't let her have all of the fun. This had been my idea after all! I quickly lost my shoes and climbed up with her. We bounced and jumped around for a while; we laughed and enjoyed the feeling of falling before springing up and floating weightless for just a brief moment before falling again. Over and over again we jumped. It reminded me of the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach every time I kissed Bella. Or held her hand. Or saw her across a crowded room. I had fallen hard.

We jumped harder and harder, seeing how high we could get. Bella squealed with each bounce. Her hair flew up around her like wings and her tits did their own impressions of mini moonwalks each time she landed. Gravity and shit for balance- or maybe it was our magnetic pull- drew us closer together with each jump. I reached out to her and she grabbed onto me as we jumped together. I decided to impress her with my mad skills and tried to spin her around while we bounced. Apparently my skills weren't as mad as I had originally accessed, because Bella let out a mix between a squeal and a yelp as she lost her balance and fell face first into the cushion of air. I instinctually reached out and tried to catch her, but it was pointless. Bella had face-planted into the floor of the bouncy house and I followed behind her, falling as well. My landing wasn't nearly as cushy as hers had been though, because I landed across her back with my face buried in her glorious, bootylicious ass. The letters there boldly spelled out "Juicy". I couldn't agree more. We lay there, giggling and gently bouncing against each other. Almost instantly the fun, carefree feeling that had surrounded us morphed into something heavier. The warmth radiated up from her shorts, and with it the intoxicating scent of her obvious arousal. I did that to her. And I would have fucking bet stacks of money that she was wet and ready without even touching her. God, I wanted to touch her, feel her, burry my face between her legs and taste her again.

So I did.

With a minor adjustment I found myself in the perfect position to reach where I knew she wanted me. I nuzzled her, and she hummed in appreciation as she widened her legs a bit to afford me better access. She tried to flip over when I caressed her over her shorts. A moan escaped her lips, my name became a gasped plea when I held her in place. "Stay where you are, baby," I told her. "I want access to this delicious ass as I taste you." She would be my dessert that night. I palmed the object of my desire, her ass, with one hand as I teased her with the other, slipping under the leg of her shorts and sneaking into her pant- something was off... Where I should have encountered the elastic leg of some fuck hot panties, there was none. My girl was goin' commando! "Bella," I rasped. "Where are your panties?"

"Ugh, Edward, I didn't wear any tonight," she breathed.

"Obviously, love, but why didn't you wear any?" I continued to explore the topography of her nether regions, much to Bella's delight.

"I didn't- oh, WOW... get the chance- ugh, that's amazing! Laundry! Oh, God, Edward, is that your nose?"

"Maybe," I snickered, "You didn't get a chance to do laundry today, huh? Remind me to take you out more often on laundry day. In fact, I wouldn't mind if you never wore panties again." I took great pleasure in teasing the most delicious sounds from her with my fingers.

What had I ever done to deserve such a gift? I must have been a good little boy in a past life. She was slick and soft; ready for play, (See what I did there? For play... foreplay. Pun. Fucking. Intended.) and my touch sent her writhing beneath me.

I tugged at the one barrier between myself and the promised land, working them over her round hips kissing each bare inch of skin as it was revealed to me. When that ass came into view I gently nipped at it, barely grazing her with my teeth. It was just enough pressure to let her know that what I really wanted to do was sink my teeth into her backside. The whimper was the cherry on top.

This was the ass 'Juicy' was made to be sprawled across.

I couldn't be bothered with fully removing her shorts. They were forgotten as soon as they were far enough down her legs that I could easily access the delicacy I'd been craving all night. I dove into her like a starving man who hadn't seen a meal in ten days. My mouth paid her homage, lavishing attention on her. She peppered the air around us with her cries of appreciation and passion. I knew how to get my girl off, but I wanted to relish her splayed beneath me, subject to what I wanted from her. I brought her to the edge, teasing and building only to switch from the lick and flick method to the suck and tongue fuck. She squirmed and begged for release. I wasn't capable of really denying her anything, so I complied; with a concentrated flourish I had her gasping and shuddering. My name never sounded better than when it fell from her lips in ecstasy.

One might have thought that a girl would have been weakened by an earth shattering orgasm like the one I'd just given her. But apparently it was like spinach to Popeye, and with super strength Bella flipped over, sending me tumbling across the bouncy castle into a corner. Bella shimmied the rest of the way out of her shorts, and crawled over to where I had landed; stripping off her top as she did so. I noticed she was sans bra as well. I made a mental note to stop off and buy a lottery ticket on the way home. At the rate my luck was going that night I had a fucking chance at actually winning that week's $452 Million jackpot. But I digress. She nearly purred as she clambered up my body. With a knee on either side of my hips she began a frenzied stripping of my clothing. Her hands immediately found the button and zipper on my pants. Bella was eager to free the Lil' Captain from his cottony confines, and in doing so popped the button off the front of my shorts. The textile-turned-projectile flew up, and for a millisecond I worried it was going to hit her in the face. The scene played out in slow motion: she reared back to avoid getting shot in the kisser. That move thrust her chest forward, blocking the forward trajectory of the button. The Button of Death bounced off her ample, naked tits, well tit. The nakedness of her fun bags distracted me from the new direction the Button of Death had assumed, so when it came barreling towards me I was more concerned with the "buttons" that graced the tips of her creamy mounds than the one that slammed into my eye at an injurious speed.

"FUCK! Shit, Bella! I think I lost an eye!" I screamed like a little pussy.

"Oh, no, baby! Are you okay?"

"I think I scratched my cornea!"

"Here let me see..." She jerked her hand away from my zipper to examine the wound, but in doing so inadvertently tugged the hungry beast open. The teeth caught on some wayward pubes, (did I mention that one of the reasons Bella's commando impressed me so much was because I too had opted for the "less is more" reasoning?) The squeal that ripped from my lungs was anything but masculine. My hands jerked from protecting my injured eye to cupping my junk. LIl' Captain made a hasty retreat least he be next in the siege.

"Oh, my! Edward! I'm so sorry!" Bella realized immediately what had happened and her hands moved to soothe and free the tiny prisoners.

"No, Bella. It's okay." I tried to calm her down before any more vital parts of me became injured or incapacitated. Carefully I finished unzipping my shorts and took them off. Bella sat back as I tried to recapture the moment. That's when Bella stepped up to the bat, so to speak.

"Hey, there, Little Eddie. So nice to see you again!" She was talking to my dick!

"Um, Bella... his name is actually Captain." I tried to concentrate, but her hands had joined in the efforts of her voice to entice the Captain to salute her.

"Oh, really? Well, I wonder if the Captain could be persuaded to come out and run a few 'drills' with me?"

"Bella, are you seriously talking to my cock right now?"

"Well, yeah, I am. I was just trying to encourage him to come back out and play."

"Try rubbing him a little; he likes that."

Without any further encouragement Bella wrapped her hand around the Captain and started bringing him to a full salute.

"You're right, he does like that! And from the way he's reacting, I'd say he likes it a lot."

"I know something else he'd like a lot, beautiful," I cooed as I palmed her tits and rolled their perky peaks between my fingers.

"What's that, baby?'' She panted as she pumped me.

"I just bet he'd love to pet your kitty. I know I sure love to."

"Let's see how he likes it, shall we?"

With that, she positioned herself to hover over me and guided the Captain into home port. It took every ounce of self-control I had to not fire all canons at once.

What's with all the corny euphemisms and code names? Just fuck the chick and get this over with!

Quit your bitchin', Shat! Even you can't ruin this for me. Now run along and play with a Tribble or go document your feelings in a captain's log or some shit. I'm busy here.

Bella lowered herself down until her plush hips were flush with mine.

"Oh, Bella! You feel so good," I gasped. She responded with a moan that made the Captain twitch inside her. With my hands on those glorious handles of love, I encouraged her to continue the task at hand-er member. She easily found a steady rhythm and the friction quickly built to the tell-tale tension that signaled my impending release. I could feel her tightening around me. That sensation coupled with the visual bounce, bounce, bounce of her boobs had me in sensory over-drive. It was truly amazing how much air she was catching with each bounce. I could feel the sweat-slick nylon disappear from beneath us, only to have it catch us in a cushion of air. And the sounds she was making! I think she may have called me her "bitch", but at that moment I couldn't have cared less. Fuck, a damn skunk could have crawled up in the bouncy house with us and I wouldn't have cared.

"I'm close, Edward! Just... a... little... more... ugh!" With a roar she came, and I followed her into ecstasy. Bella collapsed on my chest, her gasps causing her tits to rub teasingly against my chest. I was sure I'd be ready for round two in no time, but I wanted to be on top next. Or behind. I wasn't picky. I was just about to suggest we try another bouncy house or position, or both, when the darkness that shrouded us was decimated by the glow of a security light. It was as bright as the gleam off Justin Bieber's million dollar smile. Bella's eyes got as big as saucers and she scrambled to the corner of the house where our clothes laid jumbled together in a heap. I crawled over to her and we sat huddled together there, still as stones. Waiting. I wasn't sure what we were waiting for, exactly. The Apocalypse? Publisher's Clearing House? Bugs Bunny? But wait we did. Holding our breaths, and clinging to each other. Finally, the light shut off and Bella sprang into action.

"Oh, god, Edward! We have to get out of here," she shoved away from me, and I nearly crumbled at the loss of the feel of her. Then I realized that she was quickly working herself in to a frenzy. She was up and pacing around in the castle... naked. Had I mentioned that I loved Bella's naked body?

"Bella! Chill the fuck out!" I hissed at her, "We were never in danger of being caught!"

"Whatever, Cullen! You live in la-la land or something, because from where I was just sitting it sure seemed like we were almost caught fucking in a bouncy house! And the last time I checked, climbing a twelve foot fence around a business is considered trespassing, which is punishable by law!" The tone of her voice was venomous as she pulled on her shorts and top. I didn't have it in me to keep her in the dark anymore. Our "little adventure" had gotten out of control, and now I needed to make it right again. It was time to let her in on the secret.

"Bella... BELLA!" I raised my voice to get her attention. "Baby, we aren't trespassing. We were never in danger of getting arrested."

"What the fuck, Edward? What are you blabbering about?"

"'Pop'," I pointed to the sign, "is my uncle. I got the security code and keys from my cousin James. We have permission to be here."

"You're telling me your uncle gave you the okay to bring your girlfriend here and defile his kiddie houses?"

"No, of course not! The defiling part wasn't planned, but it was a bonus." I wiggled my eyebrows at her and couldn't help the smirk that crossed my face. I wrapped my arms around her, desperate for the closeness we had shared just moments before. We stood like that for a moment, trying to recapture the squandered post-coital bliss. Eventually she pulled away and started tugging on her shoes. I noticed then that she had socks on. I had to chuckle.

"What's so funny, Golden Boy?" she growled. I guess she was still a little upset about the whole nearly-but-not-quite-being-caught-fucking-in-a-bouncy-castle. I figured the situation could use a little levity.

"Well, it just hit me that, while you didn't feel it was necessary to wear any manner of undergarments, you made it a point to wear socks. I just think that's funny." I found it challenging as fuck to get dressed in an air filled structure. Not to mention I was shaking from laughing at the insanity of the situation.

"Proper hosiery is nothing to laugh about," She informed me, still pissed. "Have you ever had athlete's foot, Cullen? If you had you wouldn't be so quick to laugh." The scowl on her face did nothing to mar her beauty. I was once again struck by how aptly she was named. I quickly tied my shoes.

"So you're telling me that if I don't wear socks I'll get athlete's foot?"

"Possibly. But, might I point out that you also wore socks minus the underwear. Freak." I chose to ignore her penchant for stating the obvious.

"Does that mean we could get Jock Itch from not wearing underwear?" I teased her like the smart ass I was. I should have been holding her, not busting her chops less than ten minutes after some of the hottest sex in my life. Bella walked away before I could grab hold of her hand like I wanted to.

"Of course not! But it could get you laid. Consider tonight exhibit A." With a pointed look she scaled the fence and I nearly broke my neck to follow her over and catch up.

Thus was our relationship was consummated- in a bouncy house. (I was going to have to remind my uncle to have Cousin Jimmy douse that thing in Lysol or bleach. Maybe both.) Somehow it just seemed fitting that our first time together would be in an inflatable castle. For two glorious weeks we romped in the hay, bumped uglies (although Bella's was anything but ugly), did the nasty, the bump and grind, laid some pipe, did the horizontal mambo, hid the salami, parked the pink Cadillac... In short we had a fuckton of sex. Everything was peachy in paradise.

That was until I had gone and dropped the fucking pie on the ground by having a sex dream in Psychology class.

Heh- peachy... paradise. I'd like a slice of Bella's Paradise Peach Pie right about now.

I bet you would, Willie Stroker, but if I'm any judge of body language, I'd say that from the way Bella stormed off earlier she's home clicking the lock on the chastity belt as we speak.

But I didn't do anything! It was a dream! I had no control over the situation!

No, but you could have handed it better, butt munch.

That may have been true, but I still found it hard (the situation, not "IT", as in my pecker) to go from point A to point B when it came to Bella's little outburst that resulted in her storming away from me. It was a sad day when The Shat doles out viable advice. I tried to call her, but it went straight to voice mail. After I'd left the seventh message I decided to just head back to the frat house and regroup. Then I'd go over to the Dee-Gees' and try to smooth things over with my girl. And possibly have some amazing make up sex in the Viper. Not that I was expecting it, but a guy could hope. Right?

Nothing like putting the cart before the horse, or in your case the nookie before the groveling.

Shut up, Shat. I've gotta go after her.

Well, I'm coming, too! I'm not about to miss this!

Of course you are. I wouldn't dream of leaving you behind.

8===D

I drove back to the frat house and walked through the front door feeling utterly defeated. Of all the stupid, asinine things that had happened to me since the start of college this had to be the worst. It killed me that Bella was embarrassed because of something that had to do with me. It was one thing for me to be humiliated and made fun of, but it was not okay for Bella to suffer because I was a loser who couldn't get his shit together.

The door slammed behind me. Doors tend to do that when they're shut forcibly. I decided on the way home that I wasn't going to live like this anymore: always in fear of whether or not Emmett would find out that I was all up in his sister's grill. If my relationship with Bella was the cause of any stress in that beautiful woman's life then I was going to rectify the situation. Resigned to doing what I had to do, I stomped up the stairs determined to talk to Em and get everything out in the open. That way Bella wouldn't have anything more to worry about.

I quickly planned out in my head exactly what I would say to the overly protective older brother of my girlfriend, who I was now banging on a nearly daily basis. The girlfriend... I was banging the girlfriend, not her overly protective older brother. Oh, fuck it. You know who I meant. And as I reached the top of the stairs I had more confidence than I'd had since arriving on campus. I strode over to Emmett's door and gave it a sharp rap before pushing it open. I briefly registered what I thought was a "come in", but I had already begun to do so. I looked up to the singularly most distressing image I had yet to witness in my short life: the overly protective older brother of my girlfriend was standing in the middle of his room... in nothing but the skin he was born in and the largest red bow I had ever seen- strapped over his junk.

And my only thought was, Is a bow that big really necessary?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it! They did IT, and you got to read about it because LauraLoo kicked my ass and threatened to disown me if I didn't. I need to acknowledge a few other key contributors to the completion of this chapter.
> 
> TwilightMundi betas and makes these words shine. You have no idea how much spit it takes to make this crap pretty. Thanks, GG. I love you.
> 
> Barburella and LauraLoo pre-read and give gentle encouragement as well as whip cracks. The second is need more often than the first.
> 
> Coochie, you know why you're down here. Thanks. ILY.
> 
> Special muchas gracias to SueObsessed for "douchewaffle", and to BellaFlan for informing me that "Bouncy Castles" is a British euphemism for sex only after I had written that part of the chapter. It was meant to be! Bawhahha!
> 
> One more chapter and the epilogue to go, my dears. I can't believe this is almost over. Don't worry, I have some outtakes planned!


	11. Premature Emasculation: See Ya Later, Alligator!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still don't own Twilight.

8===================D

Em POV

I stood in my room adjusting the massive red bow thingy I'd strapped around my waist.

This has got to be the best idea I've ever had!

I mentally patted myself on the ass. Sure, most people patted their backs, but when you have an ass as fuck hawt as mine, you choose the ass over the back every time. Even if it is only mentally.

I was expecting a very special visitor; someone I'd been waiting to spend quality time with for some time now. After months of flexing and pulling every trick out of my "You know you want to do me" hat, I had finally caught the attention of Rosalie Fuck Me Hale, and she was on her way over. Presentation is everything, so I bought the biggest bow I could find and after stripping down to my birthday suit, I tied that bitch on and situated it just so over my jock. It barely covered all my bits and pieces, if you catch my drift, but if I stood perfectly still then it worked. I was expecting her to knock on my door begging admittance at any moment. Imagine my surprise when the door flung open and there stood Edward Mother Fucking Golden Boy Cullen! The semi I'd been sporting deflated faster than a balloon animal hugged by a porcupine.

"What the FUCK, Cullen? Don't you ever knock?"

"Oh, shit! FUCK, Emmett! What the hell are you wearing?" He jumped back like he'd seen a snake.

Well, the ladies don't call him Anaconda for nothing!

"I've got a special play all tied up for ya, Golden Toy. Now bring that tight end over here and let me give you the blitz of your life!" The look on his face was fucking priceless. I just wish I'd had my camera to capture the moment!

"Nu-uh, fucker, I don't play for the other team. I'm Team Pussy all the way. Sorry to disappoint ya, man."

"Oh, fuck off, Eddie! This is for Rose. She's on her way over as we speak to get the ride of her life, so unless you're here for a front row seat then you know where the door is, sweet cheeks."

"Oh, yeah? Rose finally threw her standards out the window and decided that the bottom of the barrel was better than the alternative?"

"If the alternative is you, then hell yeah! Now, OUT!"

"Fine, McCarty, but I have one thing to say before I go, and I'm not leaving until you hear me out." The guy had his "game face" on. The one he stared down the linemen on the opposite team with. I figured I'd humor the poor shit and give him five minutes of my valuable time.

"Spill it, Edith, but if I'm standing here flopping in the breeze then you have to be, too. Drop trou."

"What the fuck? Dude, you CHOSE to be naked! You can choose to be un-naked!"

I was testing him. I certainly didn't want to see his frank and beans! Hell, even if I did, I'd had ample opportunities to ogle 'em in the locker room. No, I figured if whatever it was that had him barging into my room was as important as I thought, then he wouldn't hesitate. Then I'd know just how much this little impromptu audience with me was to him. I shot him a look that clearly stated, "No nakey, nakey, no talkey talkey!" What? My looks were extremely expressive!

"Fuck it all!" he growled and made quick work of his pants, letting them fall around his ankles with a thud. "Satisfied?" he huffed.

"Nope. You don't have the right equipment to satisfy this fucker. But you have my attention. What was so damned important? And make it quick. You have two minutes."

"Asshole. I came to tell you that... Well, I've been... I'm not sure how to say this, but... Here's the thing, I'm..."

"Gay? Queer? An ass pirate? A jockey on the bologna pony express?" I was getting tired of his yammering and stammering. Rose would be there any minute!

"NO! Motherfucker! Shut up! You're the one with a bow over your pecker!"

"And you're the one with his Jockeys down around his ankles. You are so bottom material!"

"Bite me."

"Spit it out, princess. What did you come here to tell me if not that you have a huge man crush on my fine ass and want to play 'hide the cannoli' with me?"

"Ew, I think I just threw up in my mouth a little." Well, the guy was looking a little green around the gills. And when I say "gills" please know that I wasn't looking south. That is NOT a euphemism for any part of the male anatomy!

"So, spit it out already!" And did he ever spit it out! In one long word, no less!

"I'mdatingBellaandwe'reinlove!"

"Huh."

"I'm serious, Em. I'm not kidding, and I'm serious about her, too. I won't stop seeing her no matter what you threaten to do to me! Just know this: she loves me just as much as I do her. If you try to sabotage this then she's going to end up hating you. You're better off being okay with this and not making this any harder on her than it already is." I let him spew his nonsense.

"Okay," I answered simply.

"Okay? What the fuck, 'okay'? Is that all you have to say on the matter?"

"Well, no. I could go with all the usual asinine things brothers say to their sisters' boyfriends, but Bella's a big girl and can take care of herself. She did grow up with me as a brother, after all. Besides, I have a better idea..." I shifted the bow at my crotch and his eyes darted down to the movement.

"What's that?" he asked nervously.

"Prove yourself to me and not only will I allow you to date Bella, but I'll stop riding your ass so hard."

"Yeah, right! Like that would ever happen! Maybe in an alternate universe!"

"Seriously, dude. You do this then I'll leave you alone and let you see Bella."

"What do I have to do?" he asked. I thought about it for a second. Then it came to me. I could almost see the light bulb click on over my head.

"Wrestle a gator and get photographic proof that you did so."

"Whatthefuck? Are you insane? Do I look like Crocodile Dundee?"

"More like that piss ant, Steve Irwin. May he rest in peace. You'll never be man enough to fill the leather pants of Dundee. Sorry, man, them's the breaks, and my conditions. You want an all-access pass to the Bella Express? Then you have to prove you can handle the pressure. What's it gonna be, Golden Boy?"

"When and where?"

"The 'when' is up to you, but I'd suggest you look for your tumbling partner on the shores of Lake Alice."

"Fine." And that was that. Just like that he agreed to wrestle a fucking alligator so he could date my baby sister.

Fucker must really have it bad.

"I wouldn't wait too long, lover boy," I cautioned him. "Mating season's about to start, and I'd hate for one of those big bulls to confuse you for their lady love. Just saying..."

"Yeah, yeah. You're so fucking helpful, Emmett."

"I know. Now get the fuck out before—"

"What the motherfuck is going on in here?" Rose's shrill voice shot through the air like a missile. Pretty Boy had his pants back up around his waist and stumbling out the door past Rose so fast you would have thought she'd shoved a stick up his pasty, white ass.

I turned my attention to the Sex on Stilts before me, adjusting my bright red bow. It didn't pass my notice that her five-inch stilettos were the exact same shade of red as my bow.

"Hey, kitten," I purred at her. "I got a special delivery here just for you. Feel free to shake the package and try to guess what it is."

8==================D

Four days later I was still walking funny from all the rough sex Rose and I had been partaking in. My phone buzzed in my back pocket as I walked across the Green Banana to the athletic department to soak my sore muscles in the Jacuzzi. It was a text from Edward. I expected it was his white flag, his concession of defeat. The kid was such a mamsy pansy.

Imagine my surprise when I opened the text to find a single image: Edward, standing on the bank of Lake Alice with a Dundee-esque hat cocked on his head, and a four-foot gator draped across his shoulders! The look on his face clearly said: Cullen: 1, McCarty: 0.

8=================D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***Please note: It is illegal to feed or harass alligators in Florida! Not to mention incredibly stupid and dangerous. This is a work of FICTION and I do not, by any means, encourage anyone to try this shit in real life. (I can't believe I feel the need to have to add this disclaimer, but I'm sure there's some stupid ducks out there who would try it if I didn't. So DON'T mess with gators! Period!) ***
> 
> A/N: This outtake was a visceral response to the VF pics that were released this week. I saw them and was dying for the reject shots to manipulate for EoEC. Then the idea for this outtake came to me. After bouncing it off my beloved Barburella and the perpetually pervy Racheygirly, I knew this was what had to be. I hope you enjoyed the explanation behind Em's acceptance of his little sis's and Edward's hooking up.
> 
> Thanks and love to the usual suspects for making this suck less: TwilightMundi, Barburella, and LauraLoo.
> 
> A/N Part Deux: Also, if your name is "JustMegsly" you are instructed to insert your name and image wheresoever Rosalie's appears.


	12. Saved the Best for Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, dears. The final chapter in Golden Boy's emasculation. I hope you've enjoyed knocking him down a notch or two. I sure have.
> 
> The Epi will post right after this chapter so don't go too far. Thanks so much for indulging me while I invented new and horrendous ways to humiliate our beloved Eddiekins. You made this little experiment successful!

Standing on the outside looking in, one might think that my life was a walk in the park. The truth was, while my life was decent, I doubt there was a single student on campus that was willing to trade places with me. Granted, if we were rating my quality of life on a sliding scale it wouldn't rate as low as say, being duct-taped naked to a flag pole, but it was in no way Heisman Trophy worthy, either. At least I didn't have Emmett breathing down my neck any longer. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. He was still breathing down my neck, but the worst he did those days was threaten to beat me within an inch of my life with my own cock if I so much as made his baby sister's nose wrinkle in dissatisfaction. The practical jokes, aka "fun times," had, for all intents and purposes, stopped, and I couldn't say that I missed those times in the least. Although, there was something to be said for the peace of mind their predictability afforded. The surfacing of the occasional, random punking made me edgy, and had me looking over my shoulder. A lot. College life continued much as one might expect: classes, practices, games, celebratory parties that were well lubricated with copious amounts of alcohol, fucking amazing dates with my girl (who was also well lubricated), exams, yada, yada, yada... I was quickly approaching "The Burned-Out Zone" and, sadly, there wasn't any weed to blame it on.

Thankfully, salvation was on the horizon. Salvation in the form of the "Big and Hearty Festival." Three days of amazing live music, insanely good food, bikini-clad chicks who were dancing-slash-running around, and no responsibilities for seventy-two straight hours. It was no Bonnaroo, but it was a great opportunity to see some up-and-coming bands. The Delts had opted to set up a communal campground that could serve as "home base." That way all the brothers attending could spend the weekend lost in a drunken, glutinous haze, listening to bands with names like "Bitch Please," "Attack Decay," and "Charles In Charge" and not have to worry about getting back to the frat house sans pants. Pants have a way of getting lost at these events. I couldn't explain it, I just knew that I had seen more grown-ass men walking around without pants at music festivals than I had in locker rooms.

Emmett, Jasper, Embry and I somehow ended up sharing one giant tent. I have no recollection of whose brilliant fucking idea that was, but in my opinion he'd never be a Nobel Prize recipient. Day one of the festival found us huddled in our "camping condo" and deciding which bands we wanted to see. Em was blowing up his air mattress manually because he'd left the electric pump back at the house. A sane, rational individual would have driven the seven miles back to get it or forget the mattress all together and sleep in a sleeping bag-like a dude. But no, this was Emmett McCarty, camping diva extraordinaire, we were dealing with here.

"I'd really like to get over to see some of the new funk bands this year," Jasper requested while he laid out his sleeping bag then grabbed a beer out of the cooler. The fucker didn't bother to offer the rest of us one. Common courtesy, please? I stalked across the tent and grabbed one for myself, glaring at him as I did so.

"That shit is not music," Embry goaded him.

"Whatever, oh, tone deaf one. You think electronica is music, so you have absolutely no room to talk!" That Jasper took his funk seriously. "Don't dunk the funk, man. Not cool."

"What the fuck does that mean, 'Dunk the funk'? You sound like a moron. Besides, I'll have you know-" Embry was getting wound up and ready for a verbal brawl. It was about to get rowdy all up in da tent.

"Alright... you... pansy-ass... fuckers... stop fighting... before you both... end up... sleeping... outside." Every few words were punctuated with a puff on the plastic tubing. Emmett was about halfway through blowing up the king-sized mattress he'd brought with him. He was as red as a cherry tomato hanging on the vine and ripe for the picking. And I loved me a nice, ripe tomato. I just couldn't resist.

"Wow, Em," I started, "I had no idea you had such mad blowing skills. No wonder you're so popular with the guys' swim team." Embry and Jasper snorted at my jab; Emmett was less amused.

"Shut it, pecker face," he growled, the clear valve clenched between his teeth as he spoke. I flinched at the memory of me with an actual pecker drawn on my face. "You're just jealous that you didn't think to bring an air mattress. And don't even think of asking me to share with you. I'm sure you're dying to hop into bed with my fine-ass self, but you only get to schtup one McCarty at a time. Although we McCarty's are well known for our ability to multitask and our inherited sexual prowess. There's something very alluring about a guaranteed good lay."

"You could be the big spoon and he could be the little spoon," Embry injected. He was about to find himself intimately acquainted with spoons if he didn't shut his trap. I started mentally calculating how close the nearest Wal-Mart was and composing a shopping list: Plastic Spoons (500 count), Super Glue (Twin pack x10), Econo-sized bottle of Nyquil. One mastered the art of practical jokes when living in a frat house. It was kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, punk or be punked. I'd learned that lesson the hard way.

"For starters, Bella's a Swan, not a McCarty. Secondly, she's your sister, man! That's fucking gross, Emmett! I can't believe you just went there. She is going to kick your ass when she hears that you were spouting shit." It may have been the pussy's route to sick the guy's sister on him, but the look on his face was worth it.

"You wouldn't dare, Golden Boy. Even you aren't pathetic enough to stoop to that level of pussy."

"Oh, I would, and I shall. Bella will be here later and I'm sure I'll have the perfect opportunity to mention to her that her brother was talking about her like she was a common whore."

"I did not!" he nearly shrieked, "I was merely stating facts. Don't even think about ratting me out, or I will revoke our little peace treaty."

"Whatever, Em, you don't scare me anymore," I scoffed.

Yes, he does. Great. The Shat.

"Yes, I do," Emmett echoed the voice in my head. That shit was freaky. "But you know you don't need to be scared of me, Eddiekins. We're besties now!" The tone of his voice was almost as disturbing as his words, all sing-songy and girly. It made me shiver.

"You know, Em, I liked you a lot more when you were always trying to kill me. At least then I knew what to expect from you." I turned back to my sleeping bag thinking that maybe I should keep it rolled up as a precaution against the prankage.

"Well, that could be arranged, pretty boy."

Oh, yeah, definitely keeping my sleeping bag rolled up!

Told ya so!

Shut it, Shitner. If I wanted your opinion then I'd ask for it. I made a mental note to Google which meds one could start taking to get rid of unwanted voices in one's head.

Maybe if you listened to me more then you wouldn't find yourself in such perilous predicaments.

Which predicaments are you referring to, exactly?

How quickly you forget, dear boy. What about when the douche your lady love calls "Big Bro" replaced your sunscreen with a bottle of spluge? He must have been jacking off every hour on the hour for a week straight to fill that bottle! Or how about the time he dumped those rubber spiders in your room at the frat house? There must have been thousands of 'em! You screamed like a little pussy and slept on the couch for days. Ah... good times.

Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. We'll see who has the last laugh when all is said and done. Besides, Em hasn't been screwing with me since he found out about me and Bella. He wouldn't think about starting again. She'd have his balls in a vise if he did.

Think what you want, but you start a pissing contest with that pisser and I think you're gonna find yourself on the receiving end of a golden shower, Golden Boy.

Thanks, Shat. You're always looking out for my best interests. I wondered briefly if sarcasm was wasted on mental voices.

Nah, I'd like nothing more than to see you get pissed on; it would give me the perfect opportunity to yell, "I told you so," and hear it reverberate throughout the chasm that is your cranium.

Stupid fucking voices.

8=====D

Saturday of the festival found us roaming the grounds in search of food and waiting for the girls to call and announce that they were back for another day of great music and intense heat. They weren't "roughing it" like we were, although what we were doing could hardly be considered rough. I mean, no one was having to make life or death decisions about cutting off appendages or drinking their own piss just to survive. But it was hotter than hell. We had a bet going to see which of the Delts would cave and go sit in their car for a few moments of conditioned air. My money was on Emmett.

The girls showed up with coffee and donuts and we all discussed which bands we wanted to see that day. We pored over the day's lineup. "Ha! Look! There's a band named Golden Boy! Bet you wanna see them, huh, GB?" Embry could be such a prick. I made a mental note to garnish his dinner with a light dusting of my pubes. Then we'd see how funny he thought he was. "Well, Embry, if nicknames are your criteria for whether or not someone wants to see an act, then I'm guessing Big Gigantic is off your 'must see' list, little man," I wiggled my pinky at him to get my point across.

"Shut up, fucker." Embry reached for the closest thing to fling at me, which happened to be a pillow. "What, now you want to have a pillow fight?" I taunted him.

"I'm seriously starting to worry about you, Embry. You need to find something warm to sink your not-so-big-gigantic into while we're here." Emmett had apparently finished blowing up his bed and decided to join in the fun. "With all this pussy running around there's bound to be some chick willing to give ya at least a little head. Get it? A little head?" Oh, that Em was a riot. I was just glad that I wasn't the recipient of his shit for once. The girls weren't impressed with our "stupid male posturing" as Rose called it. Bella kinda giggled and called us the "Brotherhood of Traveling Morons" and told us to stop picking on poor, little Embry. I, of course, snickered at the "little." Emmett just shrugged and said, "We work well together! Like caffeine and coffee!"

"Ooh, or like chocolate and peanut butter," I added.

"Or like vodka and, well, anything," was Jasper's contribution to the conversation. He had his moments. Most could be contributed to his being under the influence of some substance or another. The Brotherhood agreed, though, and a bottle of the potato liquor appeared out of thin air. The tent erupted in cheers and flasks were filled, to be drawn from throughout the day.

We split up after we'd made our plans. Bella and Rose volunteered to save space for the more popular shows while the rest of us went to check out a few smaller acts. Most were actually pretty good. We made sure to buy CDs of the ones we really liked. I think most of our weekend was spent waiting in lines for food, for acts to start, to buy t-shirts or CDs, and most importantly for bathrooms. And after four giant cups of coffee I couldn't wait any longer! It was critical mass time. On the verge of a poop-lear meltdown, I'd had no other choice but to duck into one of the stalls in the bank of porta-potties lined up along the field's edge. There were several permanent bathroom facilities on the fairgrounds, but the sheer volume of people made it nearly impossible to get near those. So I was forced to trek out to the rows and rows of outhouses that the attendees had affectionately named "Shitty Shanty Town."

God, I hate these things!

I had a deep, irrational fear of being trapped inside one of the tiny shithouses after watching one too many episodes in a Jackass marathon back in high school. I glanced around me like a paranoid fucker and rushed in before I had a really embarrassing situation on my hands- er ass. I had purposely chosen this particular potty for its privacy, so the fact that it was at the far end of the row had a few benefits. One- I could freely do my business without worrying who was in the stall next to me as I conducted my one-man ass symphony. Two-it seemed relatively clean. The phase, "to boldly go where no man had gone before," came to mind. Yeah, I was spending way too much time with the Shat. I checked and double-checked the latch on the door, making sure that it wasn't faulty.

Once I was satisfied that I wouldn't be locked in the shitter and that there was more than three sheets of toilet paper on the roll, I settled in to do that which I had ventured to the far recesses of the grounds to do. Just as I got comfortable, I heard noises outside.

"Hello?" I tested the now quiet to see if someone had the same idea I had and sought out some privacy. When there was no answer I thought, I must be hearing things- just paranoid, thanks to that fucker Emmett.

I focused on my task, determined to get the hell out of there as soon as possible. Just in case.

But I heard it again. And then there were some scuffling sounds and a loud grunt. Suddenly, I had the feeling of tipping backward. The john landed on its back and began rolling down what must have been a hill behind it. A hill I had failed to notice when I handpicked my shitter. I bounced around inside the shit house like a Powerball in the Florida Lottery. The stall finally came to rest after three or four full rolls and landed door down, trapping me inside. It was a horrifying experience; one moment I was answering nature's call, the next I was covered in the most foul smelling, well- shit- that I had ever smelled before. Sputtering and gasping, I pounded on the sides of the shit house of death, "Get me the fuck outta here," I roared until I realized exactly what that foul taste most definitely was. My panic kicked into overdrive, "RIGHT! THE! FUCK! NOW!"

"Hold your horses, Eddiekins! We'll get you out!" a voice answered that I assumed was Emmett's, but it was hard to tell with all the laughing and pounding. "Push on the count of three- one... two... three!" The john was rolled over on its side once more, and I came tumbling out, my shorts down around my ankles, covered head to toe in the nasty blue, goopy chemicals they use and only God knew what else. Shit for sure, but whose was a mystery. I looked around briefly before puking up the contents of my stomach.

"Holy shit, Eddie! That's disgusting!" I heard one of my brothers call. He obviously had a firm grasp of the obvious. A person of equally offended sensibilities groaned in agreement. A few of the gawkers must have caught wind of my foul smell, because there was a chorus of gagging and retching noises going on around me. The stench made the skunk funk seem like fucking rose water! Someone thrust a handful of towels at me and I wiped my face and head to keep the mess from getting in my eyes and back into my mouth. A few of the Delts showed up with a hose and started to unceremoniously spray me down. I stripped off my Delt t-shirt and vigorously scrubbed all over my body, trying to rid myself of the muck that covered me from head to toe. Everything I had on was trashed. There was no way I could go back to camp the way I looked and smelled. It was then that it dawned on me...

"Who. The. FUCK. Knocked. Me. Over?" The eerie calm in my voice surprised even me. The clusterfuck of Delta Brothers all just stood around me in a wonky kind of circle. I turned to look each of them in the face, hoping someone's guilty conscience would betray them. I had a strong suspicion who the ringleader was, but I wanted them to own up to it. We were brothers, after all, and I thought we were past all of this hardcore shit. Finally, my eyes rested on McCarty.

"It was you. You did this. I... I could have been killed," I calmly accused.

"Don't be so dramatic, Golden Boy. It was a harmless prank, and the only way you could have died is if you'd have drowned in your own shit. I had it on good authority that you're a strong swimmer, so I wasn't too concerned about that. Relax, man. One day, you'll look back on this and laugh your ass off!" His patronizing tone only pissed me off more.

"Emmett, you motherfucker! I'm done! I'm out! If THIS is what you consider camaraderie and brotherhood then I don't want it!" I threw the soiled towels on the ground in disgust. I ripped a fresh one from the hands of one of the Delts as I stormed past. I went to work drying off as best as I could. Emmett could be heard calling for me to "wait up." But, I'd meant it; I was finished.

As I made my way back toward the campgrounds where I considered what my next move would be, I was furious! Part of me wanted to report the frat to the Greek System and press charges. I was fairly certain that they could be tried for hazing, but I threw out that thought as soon as it crossed my mind. I knew they didn't want to actually hurt me, but they had gone too far. I could still hear Emmett yelling behind me. Eventually, he caught up to me; a few of the brothers were right behind him.

"Damn, Eddie, you're fast," he huffed and puffed. "Guess that's why you're the QB, huh?" I just stared at him in disbelief.

"Really? You wanna shoot the breeze, McCarty? Well, I'm sorry if I don't feel much like talking about shit like stats and the fucking weather! In fact, I'm not sure that I'll have anything to say to you ever again!" I stormed into our tent and peeled off the remainder of my ruined clothes, tossing them onto the center of Emmett's carefully made bed. I threw on some clothes and started packing up my shit; I wanted to get as far away from these fuckers as possible. I had every intention of heading back to campus, shoving as much of my stuff into boxes as I could manage, and getting the fuck out of Dodge. I'd figure out the rest later.

"Just hear us out, man. I think you'll understand when we tell you the why." I doubted it.

"I highly fucking doubt it." See?

"Well, here's the deal: the Delts have a time-honored tradition of being the pranksters on campus. Obviously. We work hard, we study hard, and we play hard; goofing off helps blow off steam and strengthen the bonds we try to build." I couldn't help but scoff at him. I'd felt everything EXCEPT close to these guys- until recently.

"Are you kidding me? What part of taping my naked ass to a flagpole or throwing my ass down a hill in a shit house was supposed to make me feel welcome and part of a group?"

"Oh, get over yourself, Edward," Embry spit. "You act like you were the only one getting their ass handed to them! Every single one of us has been pranked, but you've just had your head too far up your own ass to notice. Stop your bitching and listen to Em!" I had no desire to "listen to Em," but I did.

"So, like I was saying," Emmett continued. I saw him eyeing the mess of slop on his carefully crafted bed; a hint of satisfaction flowed over me. "We are a crew of misfits who test each other's wit and brotherly ties by trying to one-up each other. It only makes sense that we'd go about electing a new president a little differently than most other fraternities. With me graduating in a few weeks, we happen to think you'd make a good replacement."

"Wait- you want me to be King of the Fuck-ups?" Well, I didn't see THAT coming.

Funny, seems like a logical step to me. You are the biggest fuck-up of them all.

SHAT!

Wrong time?

Yeah.

Shutting.

Thanks.

"Yeah, as of this moment you're the new Prez of the Delts. We took a vote last night. All that was left was your initiation. Consider yourself initiated, fucker." Man, that Emmett was an eloquent dude.

"That was horrible, man. Horrible! I can't believe you did that to me! You fucking suck! How the hell am I supposed to get the SHIT off of me? I'm gonna smell like a walking porta-potty forever!"

"Well, we do have a case of tomato soup back at the frat house. If it worked on that skunk..."

"But it didn't. Your sister had to come over and scrub me with dish washing detergent and baking soda."

He covered his ears like a two year old. "Ew, Ed, I so do not need to hear about you and the sexcapades you engage in with my baby sister!"

Okay, so maybe I stretched the truth a little, but he deserved it.

"So, now I pass the paddle to you, Golden Boy."

"That's President Golden Boy to you, fucker."

"Oh, damn. I think we've created a monster," Emmett worried to the other brothers in the tent.

"Maybe, and you better watch your back, man, 'cause I want you go to bed every night for the next few weeks knowing that you may have been a badass when it came to pranks, but I've saved the best for last. And it has your name written all over it."

8=====D

FIN

GAME OVER

THAT'S ALL FOLKS!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned for the Epi to see who gets the last laugh and for a chapter from Bella's POV.
> 
> Thanks to the usual suspects: TwilightMundi, CoachLady12, & Barburella. Hugs and snuggles to each of you.


	13. Epilogue: A Wise Man Once Said...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Twilight is not mine.

Three years. Where had the time gone? It seemed like it was just yesterday that I was taped to that flagpole, and suddenly I was packing up my shit and moving on. I wasn't going far, though. Bella and I had rented a little bungalow-style home in a quiet neighborhood not far from campus where we planned to shack up together while getting our Master's degrees. I was excited about graduating, but I was even more excited about the living with Bella thing. Living together would be perfect. We agreed on just about nothing, but that didn't mean anything except that the makeup sex would be earth moving. We'd really only had one little tiff and that was over country music. I refused to have it played anywhere in my presence, whereas Bella had apparently been "raised" on it.

"How can you not like country music?" she nearly screeched as she carefully lined up her extensive collection of country CDs. "It's the backbone of this country! It's un-American to not like country!"

"Oh, yeah, 'cause 'Honky-tonk Badonk-a-Donk' is the quintessential American anthem," I countered.

"Fuck you, Cullen." And because I loved it when she ordered me around, I'd done just that. Twice.

It was fantastic to think that soon I'd be waking up to her every morning and having the luxury of twenty-four/seven access to her. And I'd be lying if I tried to deny that I derived intense pleasure in the fact that my moving in with Bella pissed Emmett off. That was just a bonus to the grand prize of coming home every day to my delicious, and potentially naked, girlfriend. God, I couldn't wait for the day I walked in to find her vacuuming naked. Or studying at the dining room table naked. Or doing anything in our new place naked.

Dream on, Golden Boy. Just 'cause you live together now doesn't mean she'll be your sex slave.

Bite me, Shat. Bella could be a closet nudist just dying for the time and space to shed the skins of social conformity and run around naked every chance she gets!

Pft! Sure, keep telling yourself that. That will happen the same day I run out of smartass comebacks and disappear from your life forever.

Sweet baby Jesus, let that day be today!

Nope, not today. But try wishing on a star, I hear that works well for the rest of the Disney princesses.

What does my wanting Bella naked every moment of every day have to do with Walt Disney or his princesses? You're slipping, my man.

I am NOT slipping! The man had a dream; you have a dream. The only difference between you and Walt is that his was actually attainable.

He wanted to build an entire empire around a mouse; I just want Bella naked 24/7. I still don't see the connection.

It always comes back to you wanting that girl naked. You have a one-track mind.

Actually, it's all about me making her come. So, yeah, I guess you're right. For once.

I'm always right, my boy. You should know this by now.

I decided to let it drop.

What's the point of arguing with a cocky know-it-all anyway?

This has always been my point, GB.

Fuck you, Shat.

No thank you, that's in Bella's job description, not mine.

We were finishing up moving in today and then graduating in three days. Both of our families would be there as well as the crew. Well, Alice was graduating with us. Rose and Em had graduated three years earlier, and Jasper the year before last. I was really glad that they had all come to see us walk, but even happier that they were all staying some place other than ours! I would have my wicked, dirty way with the woman who starred in my every fantasy in our bed tonight. The thought pushed me to hurry with my packing and get over to the new place.

As I drove across campus, I thought about all the crazy things we'd done over the past four years. With Emmett and Jasper's departure, the Delta House took on a more mellow feel. Those two had been hardcore with their pranks, bordering on dangerous. Under my tutelage, the Delts became known for a different kind of shenanigans. I couldn't risk academic repercussions over a good laugh and bragging rights. So we moved on from the degrading and potentially dangerous to a more embarrassing and legendary style of tomfoolery. There was the ritualistic salting or sugaring of newbies' sheets- that was merely uncomfortable and a classic. And all new players on the football team got the special treat of having raw garlic rubbed inside of their shoes and pads. To be honest, it was an improvement. There was the time we secretly loaded Jasper's blow dryer with baby powder. The douchebag looked like Bob Marley's ghost, and man was he pissed! We decided not to mess with the guy's hair products after that. Items went missing regularly in the Delt house, only to turn up in bizarre places when least expected. Bankcards popped up out of the toaster, sunglasses came shooting out of the ice maker, keys hung from ceiling fans, and cell phones rang out from within the water tanks of all the toilets. (Just think double bagged, zip-lock baggies. Although, sadly, more than one cell phone met its doom in a watery grave. May they R.I.P.) Many a Delt had stumbled drunkenly to bed, only to wake up safely surrounded by the contents of their entire room arranged on the front lawn. The pranks on me didn't end simply because I was the prez of the Delts, oh no! Once, I went away with Bella for a few days only to return to find my room filled with over 2,000 balloons, that, when popped, spewed confetti and glitter. That's a fuckton of sparkles and spent latex, and not the good kind.

I think my favorite prank was Emmett's "going away" gag. He'd gone home with Rose to take a van of her shit back to her parents' before graduation and we went to work the moment we were positive he was gone. In a span of about ten minutes, we had his bedroom door off its hinges and the frame carefully pried from the wall as well. A couple of us walled up the hole with drywall, taped and spackled over the seams, and then painted over the entire hallway the next day after the spackle had dried. Then we painted the living room downstairs to throw him off the scent, so to speak. The look on his face was priceless. He returned home exhausted after a twenty-hour drive and just wanted to sleep in his own bed, only he couldn't find his room. He KNEW where it was supposed to be, but there was just smooth wall where the door should have been. I don't think I'd ever heard the term "fuckers" so much in my cumulative lifetime. It went down in the prankster annals alongside the "Pole Incident." Ahhh, those were good times...

*~EoEC~*

I pulled up in our driveway and wrestled a box out of the back of the Charger. "Honey, I'm hooooome!" I did my best Ricky Ricardo impression as I walked through the front door. Okay, yeah, even my best sucked donkey balls, but that shit was still funny. I wasn't three steps in the door when a blur flashed by me, tackling me from behind. Bella jumped on my back, nearly knocking me to the floor. I stumbled but managed to put the box I had in my hands down before reaching around to grab that delicious ass of hers. "Hmm, babe," I hummed, "you're wearing that little denim skirt I love so much..." I slid my hands up under the hem. "And nothing underneath? Someone's feeling frisky. Have you been working like this all morning?"

"Like what," she feigned innocence. My girl was anything but innocent.

"Bare," I growled, spinning her to face me. I kicked the door closed behind me and laid her out on the new rug we'd just picked out yesterday for the foyer. I knew I liked this rug, and I had a feeling that I'd be loving it in about twenty minutes. She lay beneath me, the aforementioned skirt bunched up around her waist, her knees bent allowing me to kneel before the beautiful view of her sex perfectly displayed for me to admire.

"God, baby, you're beautiful. Have you been waiting for me all morning?"

"Yeah, I have, actually. You're all I've thought about since I dreamed about you and me doing this last night. I heard you pull up and I couldn't wait. God, Edward, touch me already!" She palmed and squeezed her boobs, desperate for any kind of relief.

Damn, she was really worked up! That must have been some dream she'd had!

"Tell me, sweetie, tell be about this dream..." Bella could talk circles around a phone sex operator, and I encouraged this behavior every chance I got.

"We fucked here on this rug. You pounded me like there was no tomorrow. Now shut up and start pounding!"

Well, that wasn't her best body of work. But it worked for me. I skipped the fanfare and barely got my cock free from my jeans before she was pawing at it and aiming The Little Captain where she wanted him. To be honest, I might have wanted to take a little more time and explore a few of the ways I could get the pattern in our fancy new Oriental rug to imprint into her soft, supple skin. But my woman wanted hard and fast, and who was I to deny her?

I let her guide me as I pushed into her and began thrusting just as she'd requested, not even waiting for her to adjust to me being inside her. I couldn't help but think that if we kept up this pace I would pass out from exhaustion before either of us made it to the finish line. Her moans and cries for "more" and "harder" spurred me on to "go the distance." I made a mental note to add two extra miles to my morning runs now that I wasn't playing ball anymore. A guy had to keep his stamina up.

After careful consideration, I'd decided not to continue on with a career in football. Shocking, I know! Oh, I had offers. More than I knew what to do with, but truthfully, I was over it all. I really just wanted to settle down with Bella and begin our lives together, like a normal couple. If I had gone pro like everyone wanted or expected me to I'd be back to where I started: having to prove myself all over again and working my way up. Sure, I could have done it. I'm Edward Golden Boy Cullen, for fuck's sake! But the acceptance and adoration of millions wasn't so very important to me anymore. The only person I needed acceptance from was writhing and moaning her adoration beneath me. I was, indeed, a pro player.

I focused my attention on seeing how loud I could get her to scream out my name. I'd consider it a personal victory if we earned envious glares from our new neighbors each time either of us went out to collect the paper or mail from now on. Hey, it's healthy to have goals in life, right? It crossed my mind how much Bella liked it when I switched things up unexpectedly, so without so much as a "hold onto your Oriental fringe" as a warning, I popped out of her and flipped her over on all fours. Then slammed back into her before she really knew what was happening. I just knew the neighbors had to have heard that cry over their HGTV or Cupcake Wars or what the fuck ever daytime TV they were watching in that Lazy Boy recliner of theirs. I was pounding her, and most likely leaving bruises from where my hips were hitting her thighs, but her pants and the sound of my name erupting from her lips told me that she was loving every moment. I felt her clinch around me, her impending orgasm just a few thrusts away. When she came she screamed my name one last time, and I had no question that I wouldn't need to introduce myself to Mr. and Mrs. Jones... who lived three houses down. I concentrated on my own happy ending, focusing on the sensations of the feel of her smooth skin under my hands, the view of the swell of her plump ass as I thrust into her, her continued groaning in pleasure as I hit that spot that could make her come more than once.

"Edward...," she begged. "Edward," she called more forcefully that time. "FUCK!" Her second release brought my own, and I as I rode out my orgasm I echoed her sentiments. I slowed my pace, attempting to extend the moment for as long as possible.

"What the fuck was that about?" she asked.

"Just trying to make all your dreams come true, baby." I pumped into her a few more times to drive my point home.

"Ugh, Edward," she sighed and sank down onto her elbows, sticking her ass higher in the air. I'd have to take her just like that later- in our bed. Just as I was about to pull out of her I heard the unmistakable click of the latch on the front door. I turned in time to feel the breeze on my bare ass and see Bella's very large, very stunned brother and his pretty, blonde wife, Rose looming over me.

"Well, now. That gives a whole new meaning to the 'Wel-COME' mat out front." That Rosie, she always was the funny one.

*~EoEC~*

We were all assembled in the Stephen C. O'Connell center and the Dr. William Alan Shatner was sitting on the stage. He'd been given an honorary doctorate and the irony of his being at my graduation wasn't lost on me. After four years of blood, sweat, and yes, even a few tears, we were finally graduating. I looked around at the sea of black robes and caps around me, recognizing more than a few of the faces I saw there.

Bella was behind me and I twisted in my seat to wink at her. She gave me a "thumbs up" and blew me an air kiss. I wondered if she'd worn panties under that robe of hers. I'd bought her a special graduation gift, but she'd sweetly nixed my suggestion that she wear the remote controlled panties during the ceremony- even though I'd promised to make the long, boring display of pomp and circumstance a memorable experience for her. That was when she reminded me that the robes were rentals and would need to be returned. She still refused despite my offer to pay the dry cleaning bill. Her loss. I wasn't too upset; there'd be plenty of opportunities to put those puppies to good use.

Just a few moments earlier I had been up on that stage with the real Shatner, as the University honored the years of awesome "winning" I'd led the Florida Gators to. Three National Championships in the four years I was QB. THREE. And I did it all without a single drop of tiger's blood. Charlie Sheen would be so proud. The sound of Dr. Shatner's voice threw me off my game, and for a moment I thought it was The Shat. I focused as he began his convocation address...

"Thank you everybody, thank you, too numerous to mention.

This was an easy degree to get. They just ask you, you say, 'Yes,' and you get a degree, thank you very much.

I'm honored and grateful, but it wasn't quite so easy getting my Bachelor of Commerce degree from McGill. I had quite a struggle, actually. First, getting into McGill, it being such a prestigious university. My academics weren't all that good coming out of West Hill High School, which is now defunct. I may have killed it, yes it's true.

The only vivid memory I have of West Hill High School was corporal punishment, where the teachers whipped you with a rubber strap on your open palm for something you'd done requiring punishment. Like coming late for classes, which I did. Being rambunctious within the classroom, which I did. Or even burning the principal's car, which somebody else did and I deny it.

The only thing that remains more vivid than anything else was that we won city championships. We became a dynasty. We won several football championships, and I was really the best player. On the second team. That's the story of my life.

When I went to McGill I earnestly thought that I would be the best football player on the second team of the freshman class. After all, I weighed 160 pounds and I could run the 100-yard dash in something like 14 seconds. Slow but sure – the story of my life.

Sadly, I didn't make the freshman football team. Somebody punched me in the stomach, and somebody else stepped on my head, and you can imagine I didn't do well with the breakfast I'd eaten a little earlier, making my first day my last day."

It sounded to me like his first day at McGill looked a lot like my first day at UF. The main difference was that I had stuck with the team. I had overcome the shit they'd given me day in and day out both on and off the field. And while it may sound like I was bragging- oh, who am I kidding? I was bragging!-I fucking ruled that school! The only thing that ever got in my way was Emmett McCarty. But even he couldn't keep me down.

No, but his sister sure did!

Yes, Shat, Bella has me hook line and sinker, I'm not ashamed to admit that. And by default, she has you too.

Shit. Does this make us both pussy-whipped?

I think it does, man. I think it does.

That means I'm no better than that kitty chasing Pepe le Pew.

Ah, maybe, but at least he had the cool French accent going for him.

Shut the le fuck up, GB.

Chuckling, I tuned back in to what Captain Kirk was saying...

"It was then that I discovered drama. Things would have been much easier at university if I hadn't played football and had joined the drama club right away, but easier is not my way – the story of my life.

I had been active in amateur theatricals for several years before that on radio and on stage, with television yet to be invented. That's how far back I go, folks. When I came to McGill, I followed those interests and became at some point president of the radio club and a creative force in the Red and White Revue, performing university musicals.

It was through creating those musicals that I got my university education. In the student building, a couple of blocks from the present student union, in the basement, under the stairs, the Red and White Revue had their offices. The offices consisted of a desk, a chair and a sofa. I made better use of the sofa than the desk. That's a whole other education that I received.

My point is that my academic life at McGill, where I was working on a Bachelor of Commerce degree, and all those accounting, economics and mathematics classes, none of which I attended, because I was too busy trying to clean the sofa at the Red and White Revue office.

In those days, there were very few vacuum cleaners and spray cleaners and it was all done by hand. That's another part of my university education. But what this did teach me was not only cleanliness but hard work. Running around the desk at the Red and White Revue office was hard work. I felt the sweat on my face, running around the desk.

It taught me that if you want to get something done, you have to get up early in the morning. When asked what my secret to being a success is, my answer has always been, 'Get up earlier in the morning. There's nothing you can't accomplish when standing on two feet. When you're lying down, all you accomplish is some REM sleep and working out your dream life.'

When I graduated, which I did just barely in the fall after I had to make up a half course in math, which I had failed — I got my degree in September — I landed my first professional job in a small acting company in Montreal on Mount Royal. The bothersome thing was that I got the job as an assistant manager by telling them I got my bachelor's degree from McGill, and that I was adept at accounting and banking. This was the only other lie I ever told – the first one being that I hadn't set fire to the principal's car.

It wasn't long before they discovered two things. I had no accounting skills whatsoever — my math skills were really bad — and that I was a good actor. My talents didn't lie in the field of accounting. My father, who'd paid for my education, was not amused, but my talents lay in trying to be funny and entertaining people, and although I didn't study that per se — that's Latin, by the way — I did get my education, complete, whole and useful at McGill. And today I stand here, in what would seem a world away from McGill and I gratefully accept this honor from this prestigious University.

I got my education my own way and I urge you all to get it your way.

The road of life isn't linear. It's a country route, dusty and dirty, with soft shoulders and high banks. Don't be afraid of taking chances, of striking out on paths that are untrod. Don't be afraid of failing. Don't be afraid of making an ass of yourself.

I do it all the time, and look what I got."** He waved the honorary degree at us.

The entire auditorium erupted in applause. That had to have been the best piece of advice I had ever received: Don't be afraid of making an ass of yourself. It was one of the hardest lessons I'd learned over the past four years at UF, and to think it had come from the efforts of Emmett McCarty and the mouth of William Shatner.

My name is Edward, Former Golden Boy, Cullen. I was, er, AM, an ass, and I will spend the rest of my days making an ass of myself in the school of life. It is my sincerest wish that you do the same. Let's make The Shat proud!

*~EoEC~*

AND THEY LIVED HAPPILY FOREVER AFTER!

**This is more or less the actual speech Dr. William Shatner delivered this year when he received an honorary doctorate from McGill University. I have tampered with it just a smidge to make it fit here, but if you'd like to read or watch the actual speech in its unmarred form please go to: trekmovie(DOT)com/2011/06/02/watch-dr-william-shatner-gives-mcgill-university-convocation-address/

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that's it ladies! The end of Golden Boy's era. I'm kinda sad to see this end, but I'm so relieved to see it complete! So with an excited, albeit nostalgic heart, I click the "complete" button on my first EVER multi-chapter fic! There will be at least one more outtake in the "Premature Emasculation" so mark that one for updates.
> 
> Yes, I realize that Bella and Edward would not have been recognized in the same commencement ceremony considering their vastly different degrees, but cut a girl some slack and just go with it. It would have been the same day, just different times. It's called ARTISTIC LICENSE. ;)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and indulging me in this insanity. I can't believe I wasted all of our time with it! *laughs hysterically* I hope you've enjoyed this even a fraction as much as I have.
> 
> Super special thanks to Coachlady12, TwilightMundi, and Barburella. You three were my trifecta of "you can do it!" and this would not have been completed without the part each of you played. Thanks for encouraging the crazy and just being you.
> 
> And to a handful of readers who became friends through the reading and reviewing of this fic (you know who you are), thank you. You all have a dedicated place in my heart and I cherish you. I'm honored to call you "friends" and not simply readers.
> 
> All my love!
> 
> Forever, Liz
> 
> *clicks complete*


	14. The Early Bird Gets the Worm (Bella's POV out take)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little outtake from The Emasculation of Edward Cullen. Some of you have wanted Bella's POV; well, want no more.
> 
> All glory goes to TwilightMundi for fixing my mess and making it worth reading.
> 
> Dear Barburella and Fangirl78, you rock! Thanks for putting up with me. And thanks FG for "KiKi!"
> 
> Disclaimer- Hold on, let me check something... Nope. I still don't own anything having to do with Twilight. Dammit.

BPOV

When you've lived in Florida your entire life you should be used to the heat and humidity. Should be. That did little to cool me as I stepped out the front door of the Dee-Gee's Sorority house, the keys to my Vespa clinking as I hopped down the stairs. The sweat started to bead on my forehead immediately. I hurried to climb on the scooter, anxious for the breeze riding it would afford. I loved my little mint green scooter! I'd even named her Patty, as in Peppermint Patty. It made getting around campus so much easier. My brother, Em, had his crotch rocket that he sped all over Gainesville on. I had to beg and plead to get Mom and Dad to agree to let me get the Vespa, where as Em just showed up one day with that poor excuse for a motorcycle between his legs and they never batted an eyelash. I mean, if he was going to ride a bike he might as well go for something hot, like a Harley. That Japanese piece of shit was just pathetic.

I puttered toward the Green, a venti pumpkin spice latte from Starbucks my only focus. I parked Patty in the closest lot and made a beeline for the happiest place on Earth. No, not Disney World, Starbucks. Once I had my drink in hand I made my way to my first class of the day, Music History. I loved this class and hated it all at the same time. It was a necessary evil. Majoring in music I had to have this class. It wasn't like it was a hard class, but freshmen level classes were boring and I already knew most of this stuff already. If it hadn't been for Angela being in it I wouldn't have bothered showing up.

We sat towards the front as a precaution. That way we were accountable for having our asses in their seats if for no other reason than the professor would notice our absence if we weren't there. It also helped keep me from being distracted by the activity going on in the seats around us. Our being in the second row didn't keep Ang and me from distracting one another, however. Notes were more often passed than not, and most of them had the same subject: Edward Cullen, who sat two rows behind us and was hotter than the surface of the sun. Apparently Ang and I were sorely lacking in the stealthy note passing skills department. If I had a quarter for every dirty look Professor Smythe shot us in the past six weeks I'd have enough cold hard cash to pay for the next three years of my expensive college education. Well, if I weren't on a scholarship, that is. I couldn't help but turn in my seat and glance back over my shoulder at the guy, especially when he cleared his throat every five minutes. It was almost like he wanted all eyes on him. It figures that Golden Boy Cullen would be a narcissist. We'd had a conversation about this very topic not so long ago.

"I think he just wants your eyes on him," Ang goaded me one day after we nearly got tossed out of class for giggling.

"Oh, shut it, Angela. The only one he has eyes for is himself," I argued.

"Maybe, maybe not, but don't you think it's strange that every time you turn around he's looking right at you?"

"Hello? Earth to Ang! I sit at the front of the classroom. Right in front of the podium. Of course he's gonna be looking in my direction! It's more likely that he's trying to see around my unnaturally wide shoulders to see the whiteboard."

"Stop it, Isabella Swan! You know I hate it when you talk like that! You're beautiful, even your name professes this truth."

"Whatever. If he was interested he'd have mentioned something by now. Four weeks. Four. I think that's more than enough time for an overly confident guy to ask a nobody like me out. You're a dreamer, Angie, and I love you for it, but let's just dream about you and Ben. That's so much more realistic, anyway. Besides, for all we know, he may just have the hots for Professor Smythe."

"This is the 21st century, you know. You could ask him out."

"Yeah, thanks but no thanks. I think I'll just wait and see what happens."

"Well, don't wait too long, you know what they say: 'The early bird gets the worm,' Swan."

"Oh, aren't you clever. Maybe this 'bird' isn't interested in slimy 'worms.'"

"How could you not be? That's the prettiest worm I've ever seen!"

"Ew, this conversation is bordering on puke worthy. New topic, please."

8==D

The University of Florida. Home of the Gators and the three time National College Football Champs. UF and football were family traditions. In fact, attending any other college wasn't even a thought. It was automatically assumed that Em and I would be the next generation to proudly wear the orange and blue and that Em would play football. Had my ass been smaller I would have been expected to be a cheerleader. I guess having generously sized, baby making hips came in handy sometimes. Both of our parents were alumni, as were our grand parents. Both sets. I never even applied to any other universities. It's a wonder our parents didn't name us Albert and Alberta Gator after the mascots for UF. It was also expected that Emmett and I would pledge our parents' fraternity and sorority. Of course, we were invited to join thanks to very generous donations from "Biff" and "Ree-Ree". Apparently our parent's had redorkulous nicknames in college. Thank god they didn't go by that shit anymore. Says the girl who shares a room with a girl named KiKi. I'm not kidding, the woman preferred to be called KiKi to Katherine.

Charlie and Renee, our parents' real names, were more than happy to provide the necessary "donations" to assure that Em and I secured places in the Delta Tau Delta and the Delta Gamma houses. It was never a question of "if" we'd get spots, just which room we wanted once we moved in. Emmett was big shit on campus. I mean, I loved the big ape, but he was so un-evolved. Yeah, I know it's not a real word, but it should be. It really was the perfect adjective for my brother. He'd been bitching about the news that UF had acquired some new hotshot quarterback from the midwest or somewhere west of the Mississippi. If I had to listen to him whine about how he wasn't looking forward to having to "break in the new pony" for even one more minute I was going to roll his bike into the lake. I swear. I couldn't understand what the fuss was all about. I mean, didn't they all want the best? So why was the majority of the team crying about his arrival?

Even though I spent a lot of time with my "sisters," I didn't really spend much time in the Dee-Gee's beautiful red brick, Georgian-style sorority house. Between attending classes, working on the campus newspaper, doing research, and the extra things I volunteered for, I didn't have much time. Could you blame me? I came home to KiKi every night! And if you thought her name was annoying...then you wouldn't last five minutes in a room with the woman. You might think the library was my main haunt, considering that I'm a college student, but actually the practice field for the football team was where I spent most of my free time. I was raised in a home of sports fanatics, and while I wasn't inclined to play sports myself, I loved watching them. Especially football. I could even be convinced to play a few downs with my dad and Em and his knuckle-headed friends on occasion. There was nothing like the smell of freshly cut grass of a football field or the sound of helmets and pads clapping together. If there was a sport I was remotely interested in playing, it'd be football.

Sports and I never really got along. I wasn't built for sports; Sporty Spice I am not. My "bones" were too big. Well, that's what Grammy Swan always said. She called me her "Big Boned Beauty." Yeah, she was never my fav grandparent. Sure, she had a point, I was never gonna be a super model, but I wasn't Shamu, either. I preferred to think of my generous size as there being more of me to love. But I knew better. The rest of society frowned on any woman that required more than single digits to define her size. Usually I could care less about the rest of society, but since starting college I was more insecure about my appearance than ever before. New people and new situations made me very uncomfortable. That, in addition to the swoon worthy good looks of one Edward Cullen who had been thrust into my little social bubble recently, had me hyper aware of how different I was from my Barbie-esque sorority sisters. For once I agreed with Granny Swan's favorite saying about me: "Thank goodness she has a personality bigger than her hips!"

So this "big boned beauty" relied on her whit and brains to get her by in life. Back in high school I was popular enough, but I think that had more to do with the fact that my brother would beat any stupid asshat to a pulp that had the shit for brains enough to treat me in any way other than respectful. By the time he'd graduated two years earlier, my spot with the in-and-skinny-crowd was cemented. Once I started at UF it was much the same as it had been in high school. Emmett's loyalty and my parents' money assured that I was more than accepted here amongst the student body. That didn't stop me from being insecure about my body. Hell, it never had. Thank god I had friends like Angela and Jenn to get me through my more broody, "poor, pitiful me" moments. They had been around since elementary school and were my closest friends. I could count on them for anything.

Like go with me to see a giant hole in the ground.

Well, at least Ang agreed to go. Jenn would have gone as well, had she not had to work at the Disney Store in the mall. Don't let the name fool you, it was anything from a happy place to work. So, Angela and I met with Alice and Rosalie, two of my sorority sisters. Rose was actually my "big sister," and responsible for inducting me into all things Dee-Gee. There were never two more polar opposite people in the world than Rose and I, but we got along very well. She quickly became as close as a real sister. Alice was an adorable bolt of lightning, if you could call lightning adorable. I swear you could power an entire college campus for a decade if you could just harness all her energy. She was warm, and sincere, and the kind of person you'd want on your side. Always. At the time, it was exciting to think we were all going on an adventure together. The only thing that made me nervous was that Edward would be there too. Of course he would be, he planned the whole thing! I had a feeling that this whole excursion was an elaborate plan to throw my brother and Rose together, though. The guy had it bad, and if he'd just man up and pull his head out of his ass he might even have a shot with her. But noooooooooo! He has to act all "cool." Like I said before, he's an asshat. In my opinion, Rose was exactly what he needed. So I agreed to go with everyone and told myself I was going just to keep Emmett from screwing up what small chance he might have with Rose.

While I was nervous about being around Edward I was thrilled at the same time. The guy was magnificent, and so easy to look at. I may or may not have spent some quality time with my "rabbit" picturing him, and moaning his name in my sleep. I can neither confirm or deny that first fact, but KiKi swears to the second. Besides, what would a guy like him want with a girl like me? He was... perfect, and I... wasn't. Far from it. But that wasn't going to stop me from flirting with Mr. Perfect. Nor was it going to stop me from doing everything I could to keep Emmett from killing him. The world would be a much darker place without Edward Cullen in it. At least mine would be. For whatever reason, Em had decided that it was his purpose in life to make Edward's a living Hell. The pranks that guy had endured were borderline scary. Em insisted it was all in good fun, but I had yelled at him until I was blue in the face the day he hit Edward so hard that he knocked him out cold on the practice field. I threatened to tell Mom and Dad about his shenanigans if he didn't ease up. He's lucky he chilled the fuck out, because Mom would have torn him to shreds if she knew what he'd been up to. For all his badass ways, deep down, my brother was a momma's boy.

The few times I'd been around Edward I felt drawn to him. I just assumed that was my hoo-ha's doing, though. It was like it was a magnet and Edward's dick was due north. Not that my hoo-ha and Edward's dick would ever be intimately acquainted, but a girl can dream, or fantasize. Too bad he would never feel the same way. I think I could have fun with Mr. Perfect, Edward Cullen and his Golden Boy hands. Ughhhh, those hands!


End file.
